For Alagaesia: 37. Beyond help

Roran turned back to get one last look of Belatona that had been his home for the past two months. The days spent in the city had been rough what with the capture and return of Eragon and the departure of Katrina. Ever since his wife had gone towards the elven homeland that morning Roran hadn't had any free time to think of her, being occupied with the preparations for leaving to Dras-Leona. It was probably a good thing because if he had had time then he would have brooded over all the improbable things and lost even the little peace of mind he had now.

The Varden had left a few soldiers and some women and children at the city trusting the patrols to inform of any empire troop movement in the area. Further, the perimeters of the countryside surrounding Belatona had long been secured by the Varden and it would be absolute madness for even a king as mad as Galbatorix to attack, especially when he knows that his enemy has moved on to attack his largest city after the capital, namely Dras-Leona.

But that was not what worried him. He was worried about Eragon. He had gone to Nasuada with a request to postpone the siege of Dras-Leona, asking for time for Eragon to recuperate from his time in captivity.

"Do you think I would be so cruel as to pull him into battle this quickly after his return, Roran? And do you, as a leader, think that it is good to let him fight?", she had said. When Roran had tried to voice his doubt she had simply said, "He wanted to go, Roran. He requested to march towards Dras-Leona at the earliest." Roran had simply nodded and left. He knew it wasn't past Eragon, the new-Eragon to commit himself to such a maddened scheme.

Roran had watched Eragon closely ever since he had returned. Most of the time, Eragon spoke formally, a trait that was completely new to Eragon who had always spoken his heart. And whenever Eragon was alone, his face lost all happiness only to be replaced with a sombre look. When he spoke, he was curt. No wit. No emotion. Just plain replies. Eragon didn't look interested in anything, always looking cold and aloof, even while speaking to him and Katrina. What stung Roran the most was the lack of emotion or rather the stoic facade (for he knew his cousin too well to know how emotional a person Eragon was) that Eragon wore while interacting with others, like an aristocrat. Being aristocratic was well and good for one in Eragon's position but behaving like that to friends and family was not fitting of the Eragon Roran knew. This Eragon seemed more alien to Roran than the physically 'elvenified' Eragon riding a dragon, Roran first saw at the burning plains.

The only person comparable with this Eragon was none other than the one whom Eragon loved, the elven princess, Arya. Roran could now see a lot of similarities in their personalities. The only difference in them now was that Arya was 'prouder' than even Eragon, if it was even possible. And Arya was the only one who seemed unaffected by the change in Eragon. Not that Roran could read what the elf thought; she atleast seemed unaffected.

Roran had considered speaking to Eragon about it. But had decided aginst it wanting to give Eragon time to reorganise himself. He hadn't even spoken to Katrina about Eragon's state. But this was too much. Running into battle like a madman. Nasuada might have allowed Eragon to have his way. But Roran would never let his cousin be like this for long. He decided that as soon as Eragon came back from his scouting trip, he would speak to him about it.

"Oi, Roran. where are you going?", somebody called. Unable to understand what the person meant, Roran turned towards the sound. That was when he saw that Snowfire had moved out of the group and was headed in a completely different direction from the rest of the people. Embarrassed, Roran applied a slight pressure to the war-horse's side and said to it leaning near its ears, "Ha! I trusted you, friend" Snowfire whinnied as if in protest. "You should guide me friend.", the horse seemed to say.

"Look, now he is having a conversation with his horse.", the same voice said. Once again, Roran turned towards the voice because, he thought he knew it so well. When he turned, he saw the dwarf-king Orik and his guards amidst the people of Carvahall with whom he had been travelling.

"Orik?", he asked to confirm if it was him who had commented on him.

"Yes, indeed, mighty Stronghammer. It seems you have forgotten me ever since your cousin returned."

"Oh, Orik. I am sorry. I have had a very emotional week.", Roran replied although he knew there was truth in the dwarf's accusation. Roran had indeed not thought much about the dwarf-king in the past week.

"I have heard. Don't worry about your wife, Roran. She will be safe.", Orik said. By then Roran had reached near the dwarf-king and he dismounted Snowfire to join his friend on the ground.

"However bad the elves attitude maybe, their lot have a very safe home. Even safer than Farthen Dur.", Orik whispered to Roran. Then in even more of a undertone and almost like an unconscious afterthought, he said, "Don't tell any elf that I told you that." Roran smiled slightly at this act by Orik. He had heard that elves and dwarves didn't mingle so well and seeing it in action and that too from Orik was quite amusing. But Orik had brought up the matter of Katrina, that which Roran had toiled hard to keep out of his mind.

"How is the elves homeland, Orik?", he asked.

"Green and boring", Orik replied instantly.

"Boring?"

"Yes, Roran, Boring. Once you reach there you will have nothing to do. Absolutely nothing except that which you do by your own interest."

"Oh.", Roran said with a sigh of relief. He had feared that something was wrong with the forest of the elves.

"But there surely is a calming effect to those forests. Your cousin for one will testify to it.",Orik said much to Roran's relief and happiness. Calmness was what Katrina needed the most at this time.

After that they walked in silence, Roran dreaming of Katrina living in beautiful tree-houses. But whatever thought he put into it, he couldn't quite understand how a living tree acted as a cosy home. But everybody who had been to the elves forest (whose number was limited to a paltry two: Eragon and Orik) spoke of the splendour of the elven cities although Orik wasn't lavish in his praise as much as Eragon. Roran thus, resigned himself to the belief that Katrina would find it atleast acceptable and the knowledge that however bad it was, it couldn't be worse than here, amidst the carnage of war.

Soon the city of Belatona became a misty chunk in the distance and the sun started its descend into the west painting the sky red. "How is your wife, Orik?", Roran asked.

"Hvedra? She is fine. Although running the country in the absence of us, the clan-chiefs is taking a toll on her mind. But she will do fine. She is strong.", Orik said proudly. Roran smiled at his friend for the love and adoration the dwarf king held for his wife was evident in his voice. Roran could say that Orik missed Hvedra as much he missed Katrina.

"Grimstnzborith", a dwarf said and bowed before Orik. Orik nodded at him and asked, "Hert gerdûmn?"

"Grimstborithn chraagin il baarthnet  il jok", the dwarf said. Orik nodded and replied, "skilf vaarha aaya" The dwarf bowed and left.

"I am needed Roran. We will meet later. There is something I need to talk to you about Eragon.", Orik said.

"I noticed.", Roran said simply because he was pretty sure what Orik was talking about.

"He won't listen", Orik said.

"You spoke to him?''

"A little. But he seemed to avoid questions.", Orik said. Roran nodded and made a mental note to press Eragon till he budged because he knew it wasn't good for Eragon to remain as he did. It somehow made Eragon look old and bitter. Orik tapped Roran's shoulder twice and when Roran left his thoughts behind to look at him, nodded his head and left with the waiting messenger.

Roran couldn't decide how to proceed with the discussion with Eragon because he now knew that Eragon had already been questioned about his behaviour by atleast three people: Katrina, Nasuada and Orik. If it were the older days Roran could have just gone to Eragon and spoke his mind. But ever since Eragon's return from Uru'baen, he had looked uncomfortable at every turn, never allowing anybody to near him. After a lot of thought without any success Roran decided that he would just go and talk to Eragon.

"Roran. We are stopping.", Horst came forward and said. Only then did Roran realise that yet again, he had gone astray occupied by thoughts about his cousin. Groaning inwardly for being unwatchful of his surroundings, Roran stopped Snowfire pulling the reins hard. The horse whinnied in protest at the rough handling from its master. Roran patted the horse on the sides as he dismounted, praying silently for its pardon for venting his frustration on the trustworthy creature. A soldier came forward and took the reins of the horse from Roran. Roran had enjoyed such authority ever since he had been elevated to the status of commander, but still it irked him that while his villagers were treated as common people, he got unnecessary comforts.

"We are making camp Roran. Eragon supposedly has reported that it is quite safe to camp for the night here.", Horst said once the villagers were assembled. Roran put his pack containing a few clothes and his war hammer on the ground and asked Baldor if he could watch over it when he went to meet Nasuada for which his long time friend answered in the affirmative.

Roran almost waded through the crowded area towards the centre of the army where Nasuada had taken her position, in order to maximise her security on the counsel of Roran and Jormundur. Nasuada had been very unhappy when the two of them told her of their decision to ask her to stay in the middle of the army and had tried to march at the forefront. But after considerable cajoling and explaining, the Varden leader accepted that she would occupy the centre position in the army, so that she could be safe from any surprise attacks by the empire.

The small tent surrounded by the night-hawks became visible once Roran reached near the centre of the camped army. When Roran went near the tent, the night-hawks allowed him in without question. It surprised him because the night-hawks had made it a habit to stop anybody who wanted an audience with Nasuada and allowed them to visit her only with her approval.

"Ah, Stronghammer. I have been expecting you for a while.", Nasuada said as soon as he went in.

"My lady", Roran said and bowed. Then he swept a glance around the tent. It had no furniture except for a shaky-looking chair and a board on which Nasuada had scattered various scrolls. Nasuada seemed not to care about his formal greeting and simply said, "Arya was here just moments ago. Vanir had contacted her."

Every sense alert Roran, moved a little closer to where Nasuada was sitting. She said, "They have camped near lake Tudosten."

"Oh? That far.", Roran said to himself marvelling at the speed with which the elves moved and made to ask to Nasuada about Katrina. But Nasuada preempted him and said, "Katrina is fine, Roran." Roran sighed in relief and by the look Nasuada was giving him, he could tell that he had sounded a little too loud and maybe comical even. But Roran didn't mind: Katrina was safe. That was enough for him. "Um, Thank you, my lady.", he said genuinely meaning it for giving him the news that made his day(or rather night). Nasuada nodded and said, "Arya wanted to bring you the message herself. But I asked her to manage the magical boundaries of our camp."

Roran was surprised to know that the seemingly cold and uncaring princess of the elves was ready even to take message to him, a mere commander of a legion of the Varden. He then remembered the services Arya had lend in rescuing Eragon from Uru'baen and the help she rendered in providing shelter for Katrina and put away his surprise with vehemence. In the few encounters with Arya, he had gradually seen the other side of the elf's personality: a deeply caring person (albeit one who couldn't or rather didn't express that quality). An exact replica of the person Eragon had become.

'What if Eragon's state has something to do with the things he endured during his captivity?', Roran thought, 'Afterall, Arya had been a captive of the empire too.' Roran shuddered at that realisation. 'What would have they both gone through to become like this?', he thought. From the lot he knew about Eragon and a few he had seen of Arya, they weren't people who could be changed by others. They were both stubborn and simply too strong mentally to break. If they were changed, then what kind of tortures would they have faced?

"Roran!", Nasuada's voice brought Roran out of his dark train of thoughts.

"My lady. Sorry. I was thinking.", Roran said simply not wanting to share his thoughts with Nasuada. Nasuada seemed to understand and didn't press him to divulge his thoughts.

"Have you checked on the status of the Urgals?", Nasuada asked. Only then did Roran even remember that he was supposed to take care of the Urgal affairs. Roran felt a little guilty for having forgotten the Kulls and Urgals who were marching just behind the Varden and the dwarves not wanting to anger the dwarves most of whom still hated the Kull for destroying their beloved Farthen Dur (Whatever it was. Roran had heard from Eragon that Farthen Dur was where the dwarf capital city, Tronjheim lay and that it was a magnificent city. But Roran couldn't comprehend how a city could be built inside a Volcanic crater.) Roran had just asked Garzhvog to contact him if anything went wrong. He trusted Garzhvog to lead the Urgals with aplomb and knowing Garzhvog he knew he was right to trust the Kull leader. So he said, "I believe that the Urgals are fine, my lady."

"You believe?", Nasuada asked. Before Roran could explain himself, Nasuada spoke again, "Fine. Do give me an update tomorrow, Stronghammer."

Roran bowed slightly admiring the absolute trust Nasuada placed in him. 'Maybe it is another of her leadership tricks to motivate me.', he thought. But he figured that whatever her reason was, he had no way to not be motivated to do what was expected of him because doing so was the only way to ensure the safety of Katrina and his yet to be born child.

"Hasn't Eragon returned yet, my lady?", Roran asked wanting to know where his cousin was because that was why he had come to visit Nasuada in the first place.

"He should have, Roran. He is not that responsive these days",Nasuada said. There it was again. Another complaint on Eragon.

Roran nodded as if he hadn't heard Nasuada's complaint and said, "I will take my leave my lady" Nasuada nodded. "You may go"

Roran bowed and turned towards the entrance of the tent. When he came outside, darkness had blanketed the place to an extent that he couldn't see anything that was around him except for the few lamps that were lit by patrols. Roran walked almost blindly aiming only to get out of the breathing and whispering sounds of the people. His blind walking through the dense trees and crowded people (which included a few stepping-on-sleeping-people), ended with his feet touching water.

"Watch your step, Roran", Eragon's voice came from the dark. Stunned, Roran focussed as much as he could . But when he failed to see Eragon, he asked, "Eragon, where are you?"

"Here", said Eragon and after a mild whisper a dim blue light came into existence.

Eragon was sitting with his legs crossed. His interlocked hands supported his legs and his chin rested on his knees. He had a far away look in his eyes like he was brooding over something. Roran went to sit by Eragon's side. Eragon just turned and looked at Roran once and turned back to face the Leona lake that loomed before them. Roran waited for Eragon to start some conversation, but there was no sign of such a thing happening. And the expression on Eragon's face was perfectly unreadable and unchanging that Eragon could have been a statue.

Having figured out that waiting for Eragon to begin the conversation was just a waste of time, Roran called, "Eragon?"

"What is it, Roran?", Eragon's expression was guarded and his tone gave nothing away: it was just plain. Having failed to read Eragon's thoughts once again, Roran took his time to choose the right words to speak.

Roran ended up asking, "What has happened Eragon?"

Eragon's face hardened even more when he said, "I know not of what you speak, Roran."

"Don't you? Why are you hiding Eragon?"

"What? Did somebody tell you that I was?"

"Should somebody tell me to know that you are not well, Eragon?", Roran asked as kindly as possible although the coldness in Eragon's voice was leeching into his heart: his beloved little cousin was worse than he had imagined.

Eragon was glaring at him now. Roran bore the stare till Eragon's face lost every trace of anger and returned back to the 'perfect' emotionless self. Eragon remained silent, never even attempting to answer Roran's question favouring the calm lake for Roran's expectant face. Roran waited for a while and when he was sure that Eragon wouldn't answer him, he said, "Talk to me Eragon. Your change frightens me. I feel like I am losing my brother and best friend."

Roran couldn't say anything more because he had shared his fear in all its fullness to Eragon. There wasn't any change in Eragon -atleast noticeable- to Roran's revelation. Roran searched his cousin for any sign of emotion that he had grown accustomed to in the years when they grew up together. He could find naught but the cold 'new' face of Eragon. Resigning himself to fate's cruelty, Roran turned down towards the ground.

That was when Roran noticed Eragon's hard-clenched fists. How could he have thought that Eragon had gone beyond his reach? Of course, Eragon was the same caring, foolishly loyal and over-expressive cousin on the inside however hardened and aloof he was to the outside world. "Don't run away, Eragon. I can help you.", Roran said hoping that Eragon would take his words in the right sense.

"You can't Roran", Eragon replied shortly and curtly.

"Why, Eragon? Atleast tell me why I can't help you?", Roran asked desperate to ease the taut look on his cousin's face. Eragon stayed silent transferring his attention to the starless night sky. Roran was a little irritated with this completely unintelligible behaviour of Eragon. Still, he waited for a reply for he felt that the Eragon he knew would never deny answering such a question from him.

After a long while of silence, Eragon sighed heavily and turned back to look at Roran. Eragon made perfect eye-contact with Roran and Roran knew that Eragon could never lie to him in that state. Then Eragon said, "I am sorry, Roran. But I myself don't understand me. I hate my behaviour more than you know. But...." He paused. Roran remained silent, never leaving eye-contact with Eragon. After a while, Eragon said, "Just behave with me as you would have if we were still at Carvahall. That is the best help you can do me."

Eragon's voice wasn't laced with emotion - as would have the voice of Eragon, Roran knew - but still it held a slight edge that almost pleaded Roran to accept his words. Roran kept his eye contact with Eragon and he could almost sense Eragon's mental state through his eyes, the only part of Eragon that still had remnants of the 'old' Eragon - clouded and raging. Somehow Roran knew he could do nothing to protect Eragon. "Eragon is grown up Roran. It is only to our eyes that he seems small.", Garrow's words echoed in his mind. A lump rose in Roran's throat. He made his mind up to do what he had promised himself to not let happen: Leave Eragon as he was.

Having made his mind up, Roran nodded at Eragon and said, "But promise me that you will try to behave as you would have if we were still at Carvahall."

A drop of tear gathered in Eragon's eyes and Roran knew that Eragon was thinking the same as he was : What if they had never left Carvahall?

Eragon put his fingers on his face, covering his eyes and when he removed them, his face was as clear of any emotion as the sky on a cloudless sunny day. "I promise", Eragon said and got up hastily and walked away in the dark extinguishing the magical light he had lend for the duration of their talk. Roran looked up to the gloomy-looking starless sky. "Help us if you are there", Roran whispered to the sky. He didn't know if he called for help to the gods or his father or Eragon's, but he did know that Eragon needed some divine intervention to be saved from himself.

Author's Note:

Hope you got the picture. Looking Eragon through another's eye did make things a lot clearer, I think. The march to Dras-Leona has begun and that means Uru'baen is very close. But there is a dragon egg that hasn't hatched for thousands of years, in the Varden's possession. What will happen of it and what will it mean for Alagaesia and its people?