For Alagaesia: 75. The torture of being in love

Now that he thought about it, it sounded kind of stupid. What had he thought of gaining by declaring his love to her? It was true that she left him no other option. He was pushed into saying it. By her. Still, he had known all along that it would take just one more attempt to push Arya away from him forever.

Yet, it was not as if he proposed to her to be with him. No. He had just stated a fact, which he knew she knew already. Why would she turn her back on him for that? Another side of his mind reminded him, ‘You did not state it in private, dear boy. You did it in public. Before all the elves of Silthrim.’

What hurt him most was that she was not avoiding him exactly this time like she did when Eragon was under Oromis’s tutelage. This time, she went to all places he did. She spoke with all the people he spoke to, even going as far as enquiring Katrina about her health while he was in his cousin’s home. She did not avoid him. She simply ignored him.

His biggest pain came two days after the incident happened. Arya made a sudden appearance at his home and just when he thought she was finally giving in, she crossed him without even paying attention to his presence and spoke casually to Saphira! And his dragon responded with enthusiasm, as if meeting an old friend after a long time!! A few minutes later, Indra came to their home and when Eragon greeted him, the green dragon ignored him!!! And the next hour Indra and Saphira went to hunt together. He knew he shouldn’t be jealous. It would be petty. But he could not help it. Everyone was going about their business as usual. Nobody seemed to care for him.

‘I care for you’ Saphira hummed, having returned from her hunting trip.

‘Welcome back.’ Eragon said sarcastically. ‘I was wondering when my caring dragon would be back.’

‘Oh, don’t be so harsh on me.’

‘Then why did you block me from your conversation with Arya?!’

‘Because she asked me to.’ Saphira stated as if reiterating a well known fact.

Eragon sighed dejectedly. He had expected as much. Arya had taken even Saphira from him. She was hell bent on torturing him.

‘At least tell me what you spoke about.’ Eragon pleaded.

‘Weather conditions and what we had for breakfast.’ Saphira informed seriously.

Eragon raised an eye brow. ‘So she didn’t speak about me?’

‘Oh. little one. Come here.’ Saphira called affectionately.

Eragon remained stubbornly on his bed. Saphira let out a plume of smoke in her frustration from her nostrils. ‘I tried Eragon. I tried asking Indra about it. But he warned me that if I were to pursue the topic, he would not talk to me anymore.’

The sadness in Saphira’s voice told him how much she wanted him to be happy.

‘Don’t ask again. I don’t want you to suffer because of me.’ Eragon said.

‘I will do anything for you.’

‘Yes. But this is just a waste of time. Arya’s stubbornness has rubbed onto Indra as well. He will not speak to you if you ask him about it again.’ Eragon stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

At his words Saphira’s entire being shivered. Eragon smiled. Indra had a very special place in Saphira’s heart. He was happy that his declaration had not played havoc with her happiness.

‘I won’t ever be happy, if you are not, little one.’ Saphira purred lovingly.

‘I know.’ Eragon said smiling ruefully. But how could he be happy when Arya looked at him like dwarves did their exiles?

Even with his personal problems, he did not forget his promise to Roran. He scried his cousin as soon as the battle was declared won with news that Katrina was safe. Roran was hysterical when Katrina and he did not bring Weldhana with them. He started making a mess in Dras-Leona and they had to wake the sleeping baby to calm Roran down. It was an amusing sight thereafter: Katrina blaming Roran for making their baby cry and Roran apologising to his wife.

In fact, Weldhana was the only source of comfort to Eragon during the trying few days. Her cute smile made him forget everything else every time he saw it. He would sit transfixed watching the baby sleep for hours on end.

********************************************

The elves of Silthrim were a determined lot. They started working on mending the damage done to their city by the empire’s attack as soon as the battle ended. They sung their trees back to life. They cleared broken branches and unwanted brambles from the pathway. Eragon assisted them in their efforts earnestly. By doing so he could divert his mind off Arya and also get the satisfaction that can only come from mending lives.

He would see Arya here and there, at times helping with the mending work and at times discussing the rehabilitation with Rakshana, the ruler of Silthrim. Though he did his best to ignore her as she did him, it was so difficult. His hands would begin shaking when she was near and he would inadvertently drop something when he heard her speak. Beside these inconveniences, he thought he managed her presence quite well.

After four days of hard work, the city was looking beautiful again, although it would take a few more months before it returned to its former glory. Curious as to how many men it took to cause such a damage, he sought to know from Rakshana, the headcount of the empire’s army sent to destroy her city. He was told that almost ten thousand soldiers made up the army. The knowledge that ten thousand men had been killed in the matter of two days revulsed him and also served as a reminder of the power held within the elven blood. They really were an embodiment of pure power. For the umpteenth time, he resolved not to be on the bad pages of the elven realm.

Having done their bit with helping the residents of Silthrim get back to normal life, Eragon and Saphira along with Arya and Indra took leave of the city and returned to Ellesmera. He had to face another shocker during their departure from Silthrim when Arya took Weldhana in her hands and blessed the child. It was as if she had no qualms at all in interacting with his relations as if they were hers. It was only with him that she refused to speak.

Unlike so many other flights within the Du Weldenvarden, this particular journey to Ellesmera from Silthrim was painful. It took them two full days to reach the elven capital; two full days of being near Arya and yet being completely ignored. Even the pleasure of flying with Saphira could not bring him peace. When they arrived in Ellesmera, he almost ran away to the Crags of Telnair. He could not stand her presence even a moment longer.

For the entirety of the next week, Eragon never left his hut on the crags. Saphira went to train with Indra daily, but he refused to join her. To keep his attention on things other than Arya, he took to reading the Domia abr Wyrda. The book was a treasure trove of historic information that he came to hate Galbatorix just for banning the book. So immersed was he in the book that he forgot everything about the outside world except for a few minutes of talk he had each day with Saphira.

Glaedr gave him good company though. The dragon who had nowhere to go was in fact delighted to have Eragon’s company at all times. Eragon read for Glaedr and was surprised when the dragon corrected some factual errors in the book. When he asked how he came to know all those things, Glaedr merely said, ‘I was there.’ He had never really known how old Oromis was. It turned out that Oromis and Glaedr had been around from the time of Anurin.

One particular day, Saphira came back from a hunting trip and saw Eragon pouring over the texts of Domia abr wyrda again. She huffed letting a plume of smoke out of her nostrils. Eragon did not even pay attention to her presence. ‘Eragon, if you stay with that book even for another minute, I will burn it to ashes.’ Saphira threatened.

‘No, you won’t.’ Eragon said not actually paying attention to her. ‘Besides, Glaedr would be very angry if you do so.’

‘Eragon,’ Glaedr advised, ‘I won’t deny that I was happy to have your company day in and day out for the past week. But it is not becoming of you to sit around idly here.’

‘But master,’ Eragon protested, ‘I don’t want to be seen.’

‘You think Arya would not want to see you?’ Glaedr asked a hint of amusement colouring his voice.

‘After what I did, yes.’ Eragon asserted dryly.

‘Maybe. Maybe not.’ Glaedr said softly. ‘But that should be no reason for you to spend your time trying to become a scholar. You are a warrior Eragon. You have to fight Galbatorix. After that you and I will have plenty of time to build you up into a scholar worthy of being Oromis’s student.’

‘What would you have me do, Master?’

‘Go. Go to the training grounds and revel in the freedom that physical training gives you.’ Glaedr instructed.

Though he did not feel like going to the training ground, Saphira dragged him there. Besides he could not deny Glaedr’s request. He had come to respect the elder dragon more and more ever since his bodily death. Maybe it was because of his pity for Glaedr or maybe it was because of their intimate conversations, he wanted to fulfil every wish of his master. Glaedr was the only father figure who remained with him. He was the only one with whom he still felt as he did with Garrow.

The training ground was desolate. There was not one elf capable of sparring with him in sight. Only a few elves whom he had never seen in Ellesmera were seen practising archery in the training grounds. Their bearing showed that they were very young and inexperienced. Curious, Eragon walked up to them and enquired about their whereabouts making sure that he sounded respectable when he did so, seeing as elves were so protective about their privacy.

But all his caution turned out to be unnecessary as the elves seemed to be in awe of him. He learned from them that they were from a remote village in the Du Weldenvarden and were about sixty-eighty years old. They were the youngest elves in existence, except for Alanna, Dusan and a few children from Silthrim. When he settled to watch how they performed they seemed nervous. He had to literally force them to continue working on perfecting their art.

It was amusing for Eragon to think of the elves as ‘young’ seeing as he himself was yet to complete twenty summers. But then for people like the elves (and in hindsight him), it wasn’t the period of time lived that decided ones age. It was the experience they had in dealing with the outside world. For them the time spent on Alagaesia did not matter for they had forever to spend.

Most elves were cared for till they were hundred like humans cared for their fifteen year olds. Arya was the only exception to that rule. Hence the immense awe she inspired in elves. She was respected not just for her position as their princess but for her dedication to her people in such a young age. In elven terms she was just about a sixteen-year-old-human-girl. Yet the experiences she had accumulated over the course of her hundred years of existence were similar to any hundred year old human. She was sort of like Elva, Eragon realised. Only Arya had forced the growth on herself rather than being inflicted upon by someone else.

Having inadvertently led himself into thinking about Arya, Eragon could not help the images of the elven princess that attacked his mind unbidden. This was exactly what he had tried to avoid in the past week, focussing instead on the Domia abr Wyrda. It had been two full weeks since he spoke to her and it hurt him so much. It was fine as long as he could keep her in the back of his mind and occupy himself in other activities like reading.

Saphira tried to calm him by wrapping his mind in a cocoon of lovable memories. But they only served to remind Arya more. ‘You aren’t helping with those.’ Eragon complained. Saphira snorted annoyed. ‘Two legs,’ said she and continued on as she did before.

Eragon frowned. How much ever he tried he could not wipe Arya from his mind. It was getting out of control and Saphira did not seem to care. Scoffing, he asked an elf, “Would you care to spar with me?” He sounded hostile. But he could not help it.

The elf turned around with an awed expression etched on his face. It was quite new for Eragon to have elves look at him as if he were some super-natural creature.

‘You are threatening him, little one.’ Saphira said from where she lay curled watching the elves go about their archery lazily.

‘Well, if you would be so kind as to ask him nicely and get him to spar with me, I would be very much grateful.’ Eragon remarked frustrated.

‘If you wish.’ Saphira said and spoke to the elf. The elf seemed even more intimidated than before but he accepted this time.

Eragon pulled Brisingr out of its sheath and readied himself for the ensuing competition. The elf similarly unsheathed a slim elven blade and cast spells to blunt the edges. He seemed to have experience with sparring seeing as the elf waited for Eragon make his move. Only confident swordsmen did so. Nevertheless, after minutes of dancing around one another, the elf’s patience wore thin and he moved to attack Eragon. Eragon dodged his attempted slash and dove forward to come behind the elf. Having done that, he knocked the elf down effortlessly as he was in the process of turning.

‘That was fast.’ Saphira commented. ‘Bala is obviously a bowman.’

‘Seems so.’ Eragon replied vaguely remembering that the elf was called Bala and went back to hurting Bala in more sinister ways. After a few minutes, he realised that the elf would lose all his confidence if he kept it up and so reduced his speed and reverted to using basic sword-wielding techniques. After he changed tactics, Bala seemed a willing partner. Although he could not feel the thrill of sword fighting, the new way provided him satisfaction in another way. He was literally training Bala in swordsmanship.

‘Being a teacher has its own satisfaction,’ he realised. Although he had ‘trained’ Arya for close to five months, he had never felt in control. It was like a mutual learning experience between them. But with Bala it was different.

Eragon had been sparring with Bala for over an hour when he felt the presence of a being he so longed to see. He was lost in the smell of crushed pine cones and morning dew that he lost his grip on Brisingr. The sword slipped from his hand and fell to the ground. Young Bala who had been struggling till then to land at least one blow on Eragon saw the opportunity and placed his sword tip against Eragon’s neck. Eragon raised his hand in defeat.

He turned around to see what Arya was up to and was annoyed to find that Indra and she had joined Saphira and were watching him spar as if he provided them entertainment. In his frustration, Eragon knocked Bala’s sword out of his hand jarring the elf’s arms in the process.

‘I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to.’ He said as he rushed forward towards Bala and healed him. The elf looked scared to even face him. ‘Forgive me. I really did it by mistake.’ Eragon repeated. 

‘You are so dead.’ Saphira proclaimed smugly.

‘What are you playing at? Can’t you see that I am trying to amend things here?  I would expect you to help me in it.’ Eragon shot back at Saphira before he realised what she had meant.

Arya was walking towards him, with Shatiyastra in her hands. Her eyes, for want of a better term, were spitting fire. Eragon swallowed hard. Was she planning on killing him? That would be a relief. Rather than dying every day without speaking to her, he could die in one day by her own hands.

Bala too seemed to notice Arya. “Drottningu, it was nothing. Shur’tugal just thought me powerful enough to handle his strength.” He defended Eragon.

“In that case he won’t misjudge my strength, seeing as he knows all about me.” Arya replied in a stinging tone.

Eragon flinched at the scathing attack. Still a small part of his mind was glad. She had finally acknowledged his presence. For the past two weeks it was as if he did not exist for her. Bala looked apologetically at Eragon and nodding hastily at Arya left the spot. ‘Even that elf understands me.’

He was thankful when Arya cast the spell to blunt Shantiyastra. As much as he loved to be killed by her hands, he did not want to be a victim of the Shanti. It was known to have slain the evillest.

Arya did not wait for the formalities and launched straight for his head. Although her defences were wide open, Eragon could not take advantage for his senses were clouded. They duelled like that for a few minutes, Arya putting all her force into her strokes and Eragon trying hard to block her vicious attack. The elegance that he usually associated with Arya was not at all present and he realised that she was driven by pure rage. Was she that angry on him?

As if confirming his doubt, a mighty blow landed on his hand. He barely heard his bone snap before a torrent of pain engulfed him. He let out a whimper and caught his broken sword hand with his other hand.

Saphira growled angrily and pounced on Arya. Indra sensed that his rider was in danger and blocked Saphira’s way. The blue dragon launched a heavy blow on Indra making him grunt. But he did not try to attack her. He was just protecting his rider from Saphira’s wrath.

‘Saphira! Leave him alone!!’ Eragon pleaded. ‘This is between me and Arya. You both must not fight at any cost.’

Having cooled Saphira down, he turned to Arya and found that she was watching him already. More like glaring, he corrected himself. He wished to say something to her but the words were stuck in his throat. The two of them never took their eyes off each other: Arya glaring dangerously and Eragon looking apologetic.

Without warning, Arya took his hand in hers. She handled him roughly causing him more physical pain. Just when he thought that she was going to cut his hand off his body, she healed it. He felt his bone snap into place and the next moment relief washed over him.

“Arya, I am sorry…,” he bagan saying but the princess walked away from him without bothering to hear out his apology. He stood there in the training ground wanting not to exist at all.

To his immense surprise and relief, Indra came up to him and touched his forehead with his snout. Eragon smiled at the green dragon and put his hand on Indra’s face. Indra closed and opened his eyes indicating that he was content and flew off behind his rider.

Author's Note:

I was not planning on ending this chapter here. But its been long since we had an entire Eragon x Arya chapter. So here it is: Eragon being tortured by Arya!! What did you think of it? I expect an analysis of Arya's reaction to Eragon. Most importantly, is the elven princess in character?