For Alagaesia: 57. In the city of eternal twilight

Ellesmera's surroundings were as always old yet welcoming. The huge trees of and around the leafy elven capital had always awed Eragon. And they did now too, the third time he was entering the town. The intricately lined trees that formed huge pathways which weren't obvious at first sight and the mansions built on and of the trees were marvels that no elf or rider could build in one lifetime. They were products of thousands of years of persistent efforts of the elves. The city was eternal. Winter or Summer, Autumn or Spring, the city seldom changed.

The trees were always green and their branches bore flowers and fruits at all times. Eragon touched the trunk of a hulk of a tree and shivered at the coolness of its surface. It was mid morning and yet the feel was that of twilight and Eragon knew it would always remain so: the city of eternal twilight, the leafy city – Ellesmera had a lot of names.

Arya, who was walking a little ahead of him, was showing her dragon, the beauty of her home. Home. Eragon could only smile at that word. There wasn't a home for him. Carvahall had long since been consumed by fire. The only place he could call 'home' was this place: Ellesmera. If ever he had to settle down, he would choose this city, unless Carvahall was rebuilt. Shaking his head, and cursing himself for thinking too much into the future when his survival even past the next day wasn't guaranteed, Eragon moved on.

Arya's dragon had grown much in the four days since his hatching. He was the size of a small wolf now and could hunt little animals with ease. Four days. Four days was all it had taken for him to develop into a boy from being a child; and from being skinny to being gorgeous.

He was still looking weak, but muscles had begun to develop and it was evident that he would be the strongly-built type that could fly quite well, meaning he wouldn't be as bulky as Thorn or as lithe as Saphira. And as it goes quite well isn't very well which meant he wouldn't be as good or rather natural as Saphira in flying, while he would be better than Thorn who belonged to the kind that depended more on crushing you through brute force rather than running you through brilliant moves like Saphira. His kind was what people considered handsome.

His mind had grown almost as fast as his body and he was capable of communicating much better than at first, by using vivid images, memories and such other means. But still speech eluded him. Arya spent all her time with the dragon trying to teach him to speak. He listened, but never tried to speak.

Arya seemed to worry too much about his progress. “He hasn’t begun to speak yet.”, she said to Eragon once. She sounded worried.

“It takes time, Arya. Saphira didn’t speak till she was ten days old.”, Eragon replied calmly. He knew that it was just a matter of time till the dragon spoke. He still remembered how Saphira had shocked him by speaking out his name all of a sudden.

Arya was certainly acting different and while it was a surprise, he could see why. Having a dragon wasn’t what she had expected in life. When suddenly thrust into such a situation, she initially dreaded it and then when she came to accept it, she sought the help of Eragon who was more experienced in that particular subject than her. Eragon was also sure that Arya wouldn’t be as ready to seek his help as she was now if he hadn’t been her friend. And for that he was grateful. If Arya didn’t trust him, then she would never come to him for help and that would spell trouble to the vital ‘honing of relationship’ between her and her dragon.

‘Look at him, little one.’, Saphira urged Eragon. Brought out of his forest-gazing, by the message from Saphira, Eragon looked at the green dragon.

He was craning his neck up towards the sky and was circling like a stupid. Arya was unsuccessfully trying to get him to walk properly. It was an amusing scene, yes, but Eragon didn’t want any elf to see the little dragon in such a pose. Of course, the elves wouldn’t mind for they considered anything a dragon did as wonderful but still it wouldn’t look good for them to find their princess’s dragon moving in circles, especially since it would give a wrong first impression.

Eragon looked up to see what interested the little dragon so much to make him act strange – he had acted childish earlier but not stupid, like he was doing now . All he could see was the sky-high treetops obscuring the sun. What interested a dragon in this? Eragon couldn’t figure out.

“He is wondering about the height of the trees.”, Arya explained.

Obviously. Anybody who saw Ellesmera first would only notice the huge trees. And was the little dragon any exception? How could he be when Ellesmera would make even the gods, if they existed, to stop and watch?

Apparently Arya too didn’t want her dragon to be caught gazing stupidly at trees. “He is not listening to me.”, she said impatiently.

Eragon, for his part, tried to tell the dragon to not do as he was doing. But he didn’t listen which was not a surprise considering he hadn’t even listened to his rider’s words. 

Saphira, scaring him out of his stupidity wasn’t an option because he had long since stopped being afraid of her. He even started playing with Saphira having figured out that she couldn’t turn around as fast as him in tree-filled areas and using it to his advantage to play pranks at her. But Eragon and Saphira had found a work-around to that nuisance, by sharing vision. Eragon would show Saphira exactly where the little dragon was and what he was up to so that she could work on it.

“Just show him the truth, Arya”, Eragon said.

Arya looked at him puzzled. She didn’t understand.

“Show him that you would be embarrassed if others see him like this.”

Arya seemed uncomfortable at his answer. ‘Maybe she is worried about being too much dependent on my advice’, Eragon thought. Until, three days ago, Arya hardly asked his opinion on anything, always thinking and acting within herself. Eragon had given his opinions only voluntarily and when she had accepted many of his voluntary opinions, there was a major difference between then and now: now, she was being forced to ask for his opinions. Either way, he didn’t think Arya would be so stupid as to stop asking for his opinions. He was her best friend, after all and friends were meant to help each other out.

After a brief but intense exchange of thoughts, that he wasn’t privy to, between Arya and her dragon, the little dragon looked down to the ground normally and stopped circling.

When the little dragon saw Eragon, he looked Sheepish – an expression not many would be able to interpret. The few who could would have strong ties with dragons like, maybe, a few elves who were close friends of dragons of the old. Eragon was able to for he had seen Saphira do something similar when embarrassed.

Eragon smiled at the dragon and they continued on. With every step, they were nearing a momentous occasion – sharing the birth of the last dragon of the older generation of dragons with the elves. Eragon felt anxious. He knew not why but he was apprehensive about sharing the birth of the dragon with anyone else. He felt that the dragon would be safe if the matter was private and protected – just like Saphira’s was. But it wasn’t an option now. The elves would begin to search for them if they were gone and never heard from in a week’s time.

And he could say that Arya was similarly affected. She looked edgy, always eyeing her dragon. If anything, she would be much more apprehensive than Eragon, what with her history with her hometown, her position as princess and the mere fact that it was she who was the new rider. The elves of Ellesmera respected her for all she had done and gone through, but there simply weren’t enough friends for her in the city to make her feel comfortable with the town, Eragon knew. She was an unofficial outlaw in her own home.

But then, he also knew that Arya loved and trusted her hometown so much that she felt safer there than anywhere in Alagaesia, a trait Eragon shared. He remembered how she had transformed into a completely different elf once she settled in the town, the last time around, when he was still training under Master Oromis (whom Eragon missed more and more as they neared the elven capital; without Oromis, Ellesmera simply wasn’t the same).

Arya’s position as the princess and first-in-line to the elven throne was what actually made this a very difficult revelation, when it should have been a pleasurable one. It would raise questions, Eragon knew; questions for which neither he nor Arya had answers. For Now.

As the entrance to Ellesmera neared, Eragon tried to push away all his doubts. He thought he should trust the elves to put their respect and love for dragons before the issues and enjoy the moment.

But Arya still looked fidgety. Trying to assure her, Eragon smiled slightly at her. She returned it but only fleetingly.

Saphira flew down and landed near them for none was allowed entry into Ellesmera without Gilderien, the wise’s approval. Her arrival soothed Eragon’s mind considerably and gave him the strength to face the ensuing revelation.

Arya stopped abruptly and Eragon thought she had changed her mind and decided to keep the hatching a secret, but then saw that Gilderien had arrived to question them about their identities and purpose.

The green dragon watched Gilderien curiously. And Eragon realised that the elf was the first two-leg, the dragon was seeing aside from himself and Arya. Surely he would be curious. But there was another thing about Gilderien that made even Eragon want to question the elf’s reality – he was a nice-to-the-eyes wraith, in its real sense of the word. Eragon even considered questioning the elf about that particular ability of his, but the elf disappeared as soon as he had come apparently disintegrating into the mist. Eragon shrugged. He couldn’t care less about the disappearing elf in circumstances such as the one he was in.

Arya turned around to meet Eragon’s eyes. Eragon nodded at her assuring her that it would be alright. He remembered another day when the two of them – Eragon and Arya – had entered the city. Then too Arya had been troubled. But on that day, two and a half years ago, Arya kept her problems within her – emanating a cold fury towards the outer world, as opposed to this day, when she was seeking comfort in his presence. How times had changed?

And yet, he still felt heavy at heart, even more so than two years ago. It was quite funny to think except that it hurt: she had made it clear that she wasn’t going to be his. Despite that fact, the comparison between the times gave him hope for he remembered Katrina, Roran, their relationship and the time it had taken to develop. But of course, Katrina had not rejected Roran’s advances altogether.

‘Stop it, Eragon.’, he scolded himself. It wasn’t time to brood. It was time to act and celebrate.

The city was empty as they had hoped it would be. There were hardly any elves to be seen for if there had been any they would have come forward to admire the young dragon.

Still, Arya wouldn’t let her dragon move away from her. She pulled him closer to her as they entered the poetic pathways of the elven capital – the unbeaten, natural pathways that were a far cry from the dusty and treaded roads of human cities.

Eragon kept a fair distance from Arya wanting to give the rider-dragon pair privacy to enjoy the beauty of the rider’s home, but didn’t fall back considerably for he needed to keep an eye out for any dangers. Dangers could be hidden anywhere, even in Ellemera which was the safest place one could find in Alagaesia for a dragon and rider.

Arya gradually relaxed as time went on and as not many elves were to be found in Ellesmera. Apparantly, the whole of the city had left to join the war. Eragon guessed that the enthralling gardens and a sense of peace that prevailed over the city played a huge part in calming Arya’s jumpy nerves, not to mention Ellesmera was the place where Arya grew up as a child. It would naturally make her feel at home.

But as they reached closer to the centre of the city, elves began to appear in ones and twos, gliding towards them. When they saw the dragon walking alongside their princess, they openly gasped. It was a moment of realisation; realisation that their future monarch was deemed to be something more: a dragon rider.

As Eragon hoped they would, the elves soon began singing praises of the gorgeous green dragon. “Drottningu!!”, a few said. “Shur’tugal”, the others cooed. There were others who called Arya by both her newest and oldest titles, “Drottningu Shur’tugal!!”, they sang.

“Weldenskular”, all of them unanimously called. ‘Forest-scaled’, they were calling Arya’s dragon. Each set of eyes were fixed on the newest and for now the last pair of dragon and rider, admiring and praising.

Soon a whole congregation of elves had gathered around them, each showing their reaction quite straightforwardly.

The green dragon turned his neck around and gazed at the elves coolly. ‘Dragons.’, Eragon thought, ‘Proud as always.’ He knew not where that came from, but dragons simply were inherently proud. When facing a huge set of people for the first time, all his playfulness hid itself into some corner of his head and the little dragon suddenly looked little no more. He, looked like he was guarding Arya from the eyes of others, while it should have been the other way around.

Arya for her part, showcased the side that he seldom saw in her now: cold and almost dismissive of intruding people.

‘Oh, for once, they have left me alone.’, Saphira said. She had been left unnoticed except for a few bows and ‘Bjarstkulars’. 

‘You are jealous, aren’t you?’, Eragon asked.

‘Why would I be?’, Saphira asked innocently.

‘Well, somebody has stolen your show…’, Eragon started.

‘For starters, he isn’t somebody.’, Saphira got back at him.

‘Whatever.’, Eragon said.

They couldn’t continue their chat any further for they had reached Tialdari Hall by then. The palace of Ellesmera, never ceased to take Eragon by surprise. Not once. He had lived around it for an year and a half, but still it awed him. How anyone imagined such a wonder, he couldn’t know. It still felt unreal, like some fantasy in dreams.

The few lords and ladies of the twenty and four houses of elves that remained in Ellemera to take care of the kingdom in the absence of its monarch marched out of the Hall with heads held high and eyes perfectly neutral, that there wasn’t anything Eragon could discern from their faces.

The elf who led the group that consisted of eight members was a lady Eragon had met with during his stay in Ellesmera by name, Niduen. She was the administrative advisor of the queen and leader of the house of Ulthurai, the peace-keepers and administrators of the land during peaceful times – in short the most powerful and influential of all houses.

Of what little Eragon remembered of the lady, he was sure that she was only thirty to forty years older than Arya – a very young age to take the mantle of leadership among the elves. But he was told that her father had died during the fall and hence the burden had fallen on her shoulders at a very young age.

Like Arya, she had held a position of responsibility from a very young age. Consequently, the two noble women had a good rapport, although they weren’t big friends.

The said elf bowed before Saphira and said, “Bjarstkular” Saphira placed a hard look at her, as was her habit with strangers. Niduen bore Saphira's stare unflinchingly for a few moments more than most other people. But then, inevitably it was the elf who looked away and said, “Welcome back to Ellesmera.”

Then Niduen moved on towards Arya. When she faced the princess, she bowed slightly and said, “Drottningu” Arya nodded curtly and returned a cordial response. By some unspoken consent they kept the matter of Arya's dragon unopened.

She then addressed Eragon with an even smaller bow. “Shur’tugal Drottin”, she said as she bowed calling him by his newest title that he wanted to relinquish already. He wasn’t one for power and posts. He would lead the riders, yes, but not as their only official leader but as a guide to future riders. But then, all that depended on the outcome of the war. So he didn’t give much thought to such things, beyond a level.

And then, the moment, for which Eragon anxiously waited, came. Niduen slowed down the pace of her walk and with the most reverent expression possible, she bowed to the little green dragon, coming to stand in front of him. “You honour us with your presence here, Weldenskular.”, she said.

Arya's dragon understood the greeting, most probably with help from his rider. And a feeling of acceptance emanated from his mind. The elves were extremely delighted that the little dragon accepted their hospitality. And they sang in a enchanting melodic tune about how happy they were to have the dragons back in their city. The tension that prevailed till minutes ago was replaced by a sense of rapture, with the simple gesture of acceptance from the green dragon.

But the disturbing thing was that no noble spoke of the green dragon's bond with Arya. They behaved as if the green dragon were wild and as if they didn't see the blatantly obvious Gedwey Ignasia on Arya's palms. Not one noble, acknowledged the rider and dragon together. They spoke to Arya, their princess and the green dragon, a glorious being but not to Arya and her dragon, the newest rider-dragon pair.

Arya didn't seem to care. And her dragon wasn't mature enough to understand. Only Eragon and Saphira were worried. Or at least that was how it looked like. But then, Eragon and Saphira knew that Arya was just hiding her worry from the outside world, a quality of the elven princess that came to the forefront whenever she was in the presence of people she didn't trust without reservations and that which she shared with Eragon. Eragon, of course, showed nothing of his worry to anyone other than Saphira. So in a bid to show their support to their dear friend and co-rider, Saphira walked forward and stood guard over Arya and her dragon daring anyone to still ignore the rider and dragon.

“Shall we go in?”, Niduen asked a little too hastily for her bearing. Saphira's stance had not gone unnoticed.

Arya nodded and putting one hand on her dragon's back walked indoors. Saphira followed the rider and dragon into the Tialdari Hall. The other elves waited for Eragon to go in as well and so he went in, silently cursing elven politics for spoiling what should have been a much more pleasanter occasion. As it was, Eragon was proved wrong about his earlier apprehensions that the elves would put their politics before the momentous occasion. But even though no open opposition was voiced and the general mood was joyous, the elves had somehow found a way to express their discontent.

The sky high trees that formed the ceiling, walls and floor of the Tialdari hall formed beautiful patterns above their heads when they swayed in the wind. The hall was in every way fit to be the residence of the monarch of the elven realm that held many wonders. Tialdari Hall was simply the most exquisite structure ever built on Alagaesia. Eragon doubted if even Doru Araeba had been as beautiful at its zenith.

With Saphira and the green dragon, the most glorious of the living beings of all of Alagaesia, in it the Tialdari Hall was truly a sight for his eyes. The way their blue and green scales glimmered in the mild sunlight that fell through the tree tops amid the dim lighting in the main hall put him in a trance and made him wish that he would stay there with Arya, Saphira and the green dragon for eternity and forget about the war altogether.

His will gave him the strength to push away the nagging fear and worry that were ever present in a corner of his mind reminding him of the horrors of existence. And for a few magical seconds, he forgot absolutely everything except the beauty of the three beings who accompanied him and the hall they stood in. It was bliss. ‘If time could be frozen...’, he wished.

But then the other elves entered the hall and the magic of the moment died away, reminding him of the cruelties of reality. The memories and feelings that he had pushed away from his mind promptly came back, taking their rightful place in his mind. That was the cost of his captivity and he feared Arya too was a prisoner of such dark thoughts. It hurt when he thought of Arya in such state, although he had come to accept it as his burden to bear. If somebody could cure him, then it was Saphira. But even she wasn’t aware of this struggle in his mind that had been happening ever since he opened up his secrets to Saphira and Arya a fortnight ago. Till then it was an open battle that he was slowly losing but now it was a struggle occurring in a corner of his mind that he could do nothing about.

“Drottningu, why didn't you inform us of the happy news as soon as it came to pass?”, Niduen asked as she stormed into the throne room.

Arya looked at the elven lady calmly and replied, “We had our reasons. But it is for the riders to know and they are not to be intruded upon.”

Eragon blinked. Arya had just alienated herself from her own people and yet stood as if nothing wrong was done. She could have been more persuasive, he thought. Although what she said was true, he wouldn't have spoken as she did if he were to be placed in her position.

'Her patience is spent, little one. She has only just accepted the fact that she is part of the riders and now yet another extremely emotional situation is being thrust on her.', Saphira said to him in private. Eragon accepted but knew nothing could be done about it. The elven politics was for the elves to play or… No. He wouldn’t.

Arya had made it a habit of shocking the other elven nobles through her actions and words, be it her mother or anybody else. The princess was a rebel in the true sense. This quality of Arya, Eragon seldom noticed when at the Varden for a simple reason: the Varden too were rebels.

Niduen looked stunned but only for a moment.

“Be that as it may, you could have at least called for some of our brethren to aid you.”, Niduen said , playing her cards carefully. She seemed to know exactly how far Arya would go to prove herself right.

“We weren’t in any danger, Niduen Svit-kona.”, Eragon replied pre-empting Arya.

“Potential threats don’t show themselves.”, Niduen said. But she didn’t look interested in pursuing the topic any further.

It was Eragon who had suggested that they walk all the way to Ellesmera. Arya had merely accepted his proposal. But the unspoken reason for them to take their time was Arya’s need for it. She was not in any way ready to face other people four days ago. How could they have called elves when that was the case?

Eragon didn’t feel the need to justify their actions and as Arya said it simply was a matter of the riders.

“The Queen has to be notified of this joyous development.”, Niduen said when she saw that neither Eragon nor Arya was answering her jibe at Eragon’s assertion that they weren’t in danger.

“No.”, Arya was quick to respond. For all her control, the princess’s voice was audibly higher than normal.

Arya didn’t provide any reason for her outright rejection of the idea, but Eragon knew pretty well that Arya was nervous about sharing the change in her life with her mother. She wanted to handle it delicately.

Either way, he wasn’t going to allow that to happen. He had decided that the news of hatching wouldn’t travel outside Du Weldenvarden. Galbatorix would get a whiff if it did and then the circumstances would become extremely difficult.

So he explained, “We have decided that none outside Du Weldenvarden would be notified. The Queen and the Lady of the Varden… I shall personally see to it.” He hadn’t decided what to do yet, and that was what he meant by ‘personally taking care’. The ancient language could be used to lie quite believably.

Arya looked at him curiously. Neither he nor Saphira had discussed about this decision with her. Both Eragon and Saphira looked at the green dragon in answer to Arya’s look. His safety was what all the secrecy was about.

The green dragon was completely uninterested in their political and military talk, for he was exploring and enjoying the beauty of Tialdari hall. Arya smiled slightly at seeing him, carefree and happy. Then she looked back at Eragon and Saphira and nodded accepting that they had made the right decision.

“I see.”, Niduen said. Eragon could say that she ‘saw’ nothing and hence used those particular words. He really wanted to explain things to Niduen but he had learnt long ago that secrecy should be maintained wherever it could be. It was for the good of the little dragon who stared at fairths and designs of the throne room of Tialdari Hall innocently.

“I believe that Arya Shur'tugal and her dragon are extremely tired. We can discuss things in detail later.”, Eragon said, emphasising more on the word 'Shurtugal'. He wanted the fact to sink into the minds of the elves. Arya was not only their princess  any more, she was also the last dragon rider.

“But, Shur'tugal, there are matters of utmost importance that needs solution right now.”, one of the elven lords said.

Eragon couldn't understand what the elves wanted. As per customs, that evening would be time for celebrations when the whole city would be officially made aware of the happy news. Till then there wasn't anything else to discuss, or was there?

“What might it be?”, he enquired the elf lord directly.

“The issue of inheritance.”, the elf said simply.

What? Won't the elves be clear about anything? He could understand nothing from that short sentence. Saphira too didn't understand what the elf was meaning by 'inheritance' But from the sharp intake of breath from Arya, it was evident that Arya understood and she distressed at the meaning.

Nobody elaborated and Arya seemed unwilling to talk. Eragon stood calm. Whatever the issue it was better to react than to be proactive and thus make matters worse. The whole room was dead silent except for the shuffling of feet by the green dragon who scrambled to reach out to Arya.

And then, Niduen said, “Who would rule over us if Queen Islanzadi falls in war, when our princess now has... other responsibilities?” Her voice was perfectly calm and cool.

There it was. The dreaded question. One for which Eragon had no answer. This was exactly why he had feared bringing Arya and her dragon to Ellesmera. It was now asked and it needed to be addressed. Eragon had hoped that the elves wouldn't take up the matter as soon as they entered Ellesmera. But here he was facing the most dreadful question that could be posed in the event of Arya becoming the rider, with no answer.

He now understood why Arya had stood silent despite understanding the roundabout 'issue of inheritance' thing.

“I am sure there is a lot of time to reflect on it and find an amicable solution.”, Eragon said. Nothing should be promised. He was careful about it.

“No, Lord Eragon, there is no time to reflect on it. Besides it is for the elves to decide on our politics.”, an elf lady said.

Eragon nodded. He had expected such a backlash. And it was true. He had no business with elven politics. But there was another option. One that he had considered just minutes ago. But No. He wouldn't.

Eragon looked at Arya pitifully. Poor soul. She was being pushed towards more and more difficult situations each passing day.

“Drottninugu?”, somebody called.

Arya had withdrawn into a shell, showing not a bit of emotion on her face. “This is a decision for the Queen to make. When she is alive and well, we are not supposed to speak of things that may come to pass in the event of her death.”, she said.

So it was more to Arya than a difficult decision. It was the matter of her mother's life. How did Eragon overlook that particular part in this discussion. They were speaking of things that would happen after the Queen's time. Arya, for all her animosity with her mother, profoundly loved Islanzadi, Eragon knew. He had seen mother and daughter exchange each other’s grief at Oromis's passing. Arya had held onto her mother as if Islanzadi was the only person who could keep her sane.

“But the war is so unpredictable, Drottningu. We need a solution.”, another elf lord said.

Eragon couldn't watch it any more. The elven lords were grilling Arya and forcing her to announce something. Arya looked completely miserable and lost while her dragon tried to understand why his rider was sad and was growling at the elven lords. He turned away.

'You all lack faith. You don't trust your Queen enough.', Saphira said to the bewilderment of the elven lords and ladies. She was, of course, exaggerating their words. 'As your princess said it is for the Queen to decide. I and Eragon would soon meet with the Queen and inform her of the developments and we will discuss these things then.', she continued.

The elves looked on, unable to speak against a being they respected above all. 'If nothing comes out of it, I can assure you that Princess Arya is perfectly capable of administering this kingdom.' Saphira said heatedly.

Before the elves could speak anything in rebuttal, Saphira said, 'I say this not out of the freedom dragons enjoy in advising the elven government but out of my authority as the leader of the order of dragon riders.' There was arrogance in her voice and words, but Eragon sensed none in her mind. She had meant what she said. It was a fact and she  had stated it in the way of the dragons.

The hall was silent. Absolutely silent. Not one elf dared challenge Saphira for she had not requested but commanded them to be silent. Even Eragon was dumb struck. As far as he knew, Saphira had never tried to leverage her position. But sometimes, he felt, using power is justifiable when done with good intentions.

'I believe there will be a celebratory ceremony this evening.', Saphira said drawing everyone's attentions. Eragon smiled despite the situation. There weren't many strategists who could claim to be more strategic than Saphira. She had not only brushed aside a boiling issue but also was pulling others out of it.

The elves had no other way than to accept Saphira's words. Atleast for the sake of maintaining cordiality, the lords and ladies of Ellesmera requested Eragon, Arya, Saphira and the green dragon to join in the revelry to be held in honour of the riders. And then they took their leave hastily, wanting only to escape Saphira's stare. But still, they didn’t fail to praise the green dragon on their way out. Elves. The most mercurial beings he had ever met.

Once the elves had vacated the hall leaving the two dragons and riders alone, Saphira turned toward Arya and asked, 'Did I cross my limits?'

Arya looked at Saphira fondly. “No. You didn't. It was your right to speak.”, she said and after a pause added, “I thank you, O, great one for what you did for me.”

'There is nothing to thank for Arya. We are riders and we are meant to help each other.', Saphira said saintly. Eragon knew that his dragon would have helped Arya even if she weren't a rider. Their bonding was more than just being co-riders. It was a deep friendship, even deeper than the one he and Arya shared for it was a longer friendship. One that was forged when Arya carried Saphira's egg around Alagaesia for fifteen years and revived when they met in Gil'ead where Saphira helped rescue Arya and solidified by their time together when he was imprisoned in Uru'baen.

With the elves gone, the throne room was empty barring the four of them. Arya's dragon took it as his cue to break into joyous runs around the Tialdari hall. Here was one dragon, impressed by delicacy and beauty like no other. For his safety, Saphira and he would defy anything. He was their only hold to happiness. He was the missing link. With him around, everything felt complete.

Arya smiled at her dragon’s antics and Eragon admired Arya’s beautiful smile. Saphira stood guard over the other three trying hard to avoid being fooled by a little green friend.

Author’s Note:

If events in this chapter seemed forced or artificial, I am sorry. I tried, but somehow I lost focus in between and so the chapter hasn’t come as well as I hoped it would. But I don’t think it is outright bad, it just wasn’t very good.. It had its moments but the overall feel, I don't know how to say it... Maybe because I haven't read all in one go, I feel its not that good or maybe it really isn't good..or.. oh, well the writer’s thoughts seldom matter. What did you think?