Freaky Fruit: Ye Olde Dominance of Fate

Author's Note

I know you're probably sick of me at the moment and mad as hell, but here's the thing, I posted this for you guys though I started this story for me. 'Cause the vision in my head stuck like crazy and the only way to get it out was through typing like crazy. So in other words: Here it is, and I don't own The Inheritance Cycle by Christopher Paolini or The Twilight Saga by Stephenie Meyer. However, the plot and the extra characters I added are mine and I would appreciate it if none of it was stolen. And keep in mind that I do not have a beta or someone that I trust enough to read over my work and point out all of my mistakes and mess-ups and I hope you forgive any errors you may find.

Chapter 1. Gone

The village was deserted. Houses were charred black. My sharp eyes inspected the buildings. My lip curled at the fact that I had traveled all the way here for nothing. I sighed. I was unable to go back to Du Weldenvarden. It was no doubt that I was not welcome there anymore. Even though I bore the yawë as a symbol of great dedication to my Queen Islanzadi. My eyes spotted a strange footprint on the ground. Imprinted in the dry earth. I crouched and inspected the footprint. I immediately knew the name of the creature that had made them. And I cursed as the name flitted through my mind: Ra'zac. My eyes immediately darted around, checking my surroundings once more, in case they still lurked. Instinct drove me to draw my dagger/ hunting knife that had been strapped to my leather clad leg. The quiver on my back full of arrows rested comfortably between my shoulder blades. The weight of my elven made sword lying flat against my hip. I set up camp on the inside perimeter of the Spine. I would have to travel straight down the range of mountains until I got to Therinsford, to restock on supplies. Other than that I would have to travel on foot. It was safer and easier that way. Judging by what I had heard, the Varden were currently residing in Surda. I had heard of the Rider and how he had just arrived back in Surda, after his visitation with the elves. As a child, I had always dreamed of dragons and whether or not I would actually meet one. My eyes spotted a round patch of ice and I allowed my eyes to glare at my reflection. My icy green-gray eyes were slitted, my hair framing my curved face. I held a certain glow about my skin that was suppressed by the human blood that mixed itself with my elven ancestry. My hair streaked with a blue-black that belonged to my mother, as well as the points of my ears. My ears twitched as they took in the sounds of the surrounding area. The roar of the falls in the distance, and the quiet activities of animals in the surrounding forest. Drawing upon the magic I had, I melted the small patch of ice. Creating a pool that was quickly soaking back into the earth. Quickly I barked, “Draumr kopa!” I saw Arya, standing next to a lady who's skin was of ebony. Her black hair coming to a blunt stop at the base of her neck. I released the spell and allowed the liquid to soak back into the cold, dry ground. A sharp crack broke the near silence of the woods. I picked up the pack that I had, slinging it across my body and taking off further south of Carvahall. It was likely I would be near Therinsford's outskirts by midday tomorrow. My feet made no sound against the floor of the forest as I ran towards the next town.

Chapter 2. Run, Run, Run

My appearance in Therinsford caused quite a lot of unwanted attention. Which meant that I had to make haste towards the Varden. I had to keep my face hidden buying bread from villages on the way to greet the rebel nation. Carvahall had been my hope of finding a clue, or maybe hearing from Brom. But the entire village had been blackened. I walked through Feinster, a city a few miles north of Surda's borders. I walked into a pub, keeping my head down, not showing my face or my pointed ears. I had made my ears rounded and took away the angular set to my features that belonged to the elves. I allowed myself to listen to the gossip, settling myself into a booth and ducking my head. A tankard was set in front of me and I didn't have to look up to know that it was someone who either apprenticed here or owned the tavern. Some words caught my attention and I tuned in, “....said he kill two 'undred men in one sittin'. 'Eard he's part of the Varden now. They say they're makin' him a general. Force to be reckoned with that Stronghammer. Camped out in the Burnin' Plains they are...” my ears wandered away from the conversation and instead listened to the thoughts swirling in my brain. I muttered some low curses. The Burning Plains? Was Nasuada mad? She was a good leader. Fit to lead the Varden. But the Burning Plains? Those plains stretched for miles. Belching horrendous fumes with the occasional burst of fire from the ground. A constant cloud of ash, smoke and carnivorous birds swooped overhead. Many battles had been fought on that ground, the air sometimes stagnant with death, blood and rotting flesh. I breathed heavily. Grimacing when the burning smell of the drink graced my nostrils. I stood up and left the pub. Leaving the untouched tankard behind. My eyes scanned the street and I shrunk back further into my cloak, blending into the shadows. I hopped up over the wall that separated the village from the outside world. And then I started to run, letting my feet carry me towards the Varden.

x-x-x

There they were. The rows of tents in the distance. A long trench, at least seven meters across was in front of me. It was filled with sharpened pikes and sticks. I could see the dark of blood on some of the sharpened wood. Skeletons, clad in the King's colors; blood red and pure gold. My stomach churned at the smell of rotting flesh, and the sight of human bones picked clean by the birds that hungrily flew overhead, waiting for more to feast on. I leaped from sharpened stick to sharpened stick. Balancing on the edge, before finally making it to the other side. As soon as my feet touched the Varden's ground, I heard the sound of running feet. I lowered my hood, removing the spell that changed my features. A soldier, clad in armor with the Varden's symbol on it, stopped a few feet from me. “Name yourself!” he barked.

“I wish to speak to Nasuada.” I said. The soldier narrowed his eyes.

“Identify yourself.” he said stubbornly. I rolled my eyes.

“Isabella, of Du Weldenvarden. Adviser in Queen Islanzadi's court.” I stated. The soldier gestured for me to follow him, and he led me past rows of tents. People were bustling about. Women looking for their children. Men hard at work. But they're attention was diverted when I walked past. Three soldiers in front of me, two behind me. I was led into a large tent, in which the ebony skinned Nasuada was speaking with several people. A group of elves stood by the door. Elven spellcasters. The same ones that the Queen had sent. I swallowed hard at seeing my brethren. I quickly turned my eyes ahead. Staring straight forward. A boy, who looked much like my own kin stood near Nasuada. Listening to every word she was saying. His ears were pointed, much like mine. His eyes slitted, features angular, his hair falling over his forehead. He was the Rider that had been changed at the Agaeti Blodhren. I had only heard of it, not seen it. But I knew of the events and what had transpired. “Lady Nasuada.” I said, inclining my head. “Ah, you must be Lady Isabella?”

“That, of which I am.” I said.

“I know you come to us from very far. There was word of an elven lady spotted in villages near the Spine. Would that, by any chance, be you?”

“My appearance in Therinsford, caused unduly attention that was unwanted and could have been prevented, had I the strength to shield my face,” I said. Nasuada nodded her understanding.

“To make sure that you are not tainted by Galbatorix, I must ask that you open your mind. Eragon will examine you.” she said.

“Of course.” I said. Turning to face the Rider. He touched two fingers to his lips and inclined his head.

“Astra esterni ono thelduin, Isabella Svit-kona.” he murmured. And then I felt his mental invasion. I immediately struck out and he winced. “Sorry, instinct.” I murmured and held back my impulse to strike back into his mind. I clenched my teeth against the feel of his mental probe sifting through my mind. He pulled back out of my mind, his face pale and his eyes a bit wild. If you think an elf's mind is complicated, wait until you make your way into the consciousness of an immortal hybrid. Eragon nodded to Nasuada, who smiled slightly. Then my eyes caught sight of Arya, hovering near the side of Nasuada's desk. The corners of my lips twitched, but I did not smile. Sadness at seeing Arya was inevitable. Her slitted eyes narrowed slightly. “Why did you come here?” she said, her voice half sharp, half weak. I sighed, “Hello to you too sister.”

Chapter 3. Family Troubles and a Mission

“Wait....sister?” Eragon said incredulously. Arya's eyes flashed and I sighed.

“Half-sister.” she corrected tartly. As if it made a difference.

“Do you two mind sorting out your familial problems at a latter time? There are things that I must discuss!” Nasuada said, an urgent undercurrent in her tone.

“Of course.” I said.

“Now, with that put aside, Isabella, there is an important matter that I must discuss with you.” Nasuada walked behind her desk and sat down. “Yes, my Lady?”

“The fate of the last dragon egg.”

“Oh?” my eyebrows raised expectantly.

“The egg must be retrieved. I ask that you carry out this task and choose one or two people to accompany you.”

“Preposterous! She can't complete the task! She is too-”

“Arya! Hold your tongue!” Nasuada barked.

“Yes, my Lady. Forgive me.”

“You are forgiven. As I was saying, companions are inevitable for this task. Even though Durza is no longer alive, and no Shade has appeared in Alagaesia, I understand that Galbatorix has Murtagh at his disposal.” Nasuada paused, allowing the near-silent disquiet to settle before continuing. “Eragon may accompany you if he wishes, or he can stay and assist us in case there is another attack.” it was obvious that she wanted Eragon to stay. She was far too dependent on the Rider. I didn't allow my face to portray any emotion. “When do I leave?” I asked. Nasuada opened her mouth to speak, but Arya spoke first. “Lady Nasuada if it's not too much trouble, I would like to accompany Isabella to Urû'baen.” my jaw nearly dropped at Arya's request. But instead I clenched my jaw. “You may accompany Isabella, if you wish.” Nasuada mumbled. “And you may leave as soon as possible.” she directed her words to me. I nodded curtly and turned on my heel. Making my way out of the tent. My cloak brushed the ground as I strode forward. One hand on the hilt of my sword. I felt someone watching me and my eyes swept the Varden camp. Expecting to see a curious villager or something. But instead it was a man watching me. No, not a man. An elf. His hair was cropped short, something unusual for an elf. His pointed ears were visible, poking through the hair that touched his ears. His eyes were a beautiful shade of green, and his hair a strange shade. It was red, but not red. With brown, blonde and a whole bunch of stuff in between. No other elf had such an other-worldly and exotic appearance. No other elf paid me attention. Especially males. And no one had ever fixed me with a look as intense as the one he was giving me. From afar, he touched two fingers to his lips, closed his eyes and inclined his head. I ripped my gaze from his, and hurried away. My breathing was hurried and borderline panicked. That is...until the smell reached my nose. My nose scrunched up and my head immediately turned in the direction of the scent. Women were fanning sheets and boards in the air, trying to wave off the smell. Turns out that only made it worse. I sighed and headed towards the scent. The tent I was standing in front of was familiar. “What is that ungodly smell?” I muttered out loud.

“Who said that? Who-” the tiny herbalist came out of the tent looking around furiously. “Well well well.....if it isn't Isabella.”

“Angela.” I stated coolly. A small smile played on her lips, and her brown eyes glinted mysteriously.

“Haven't heard from you in a while. Last time I saw you, you had a hood shadowing your face.”

“And the last time I saw you, you were still writing that letter stating that toads don't exist.” I smirked. She immediately puffed up. “Well, they don't!” she stated passionately. I bit my lip so I wouldn't laugh. “If the creation of toads had been prevented all the chaos that toads cause wouldn't even be in existence! People wouldn't get sick and witches couldn't use them to make violent potions!”

“You are a witch, are you not Angela?” she rolled her eyes and her hand fluttered at me lazily.
“I'm an herbalist, big difference.” she said. I chuckled, then I spotted the werecat at her feet. “Hello Solumbum.” I greeted.

Isabella, came the reply. I hope you are well.

“I am well, thank you.”

The green eyed one has long watched you, the shaggy cat said cryptically. My confusion radiated off me like the rays of the sun. The 'green eyed one'? “What is he telling you now?” Angela asked. I shrugged. “Just something about someone with green eyes.”

“The only one I know with green eyes is the new elven spellcaster that arrived last week. Folir requested one more set of hands and so it was sent.”

“Ah.” I murmured.

“He's quite the charmer if I do say so myself. Cryptic though, if you ask me. But he's strong though. Word is that he hasn't mated yet, and he's over four hundred years old.” I rolled my eyes.

“Angela, are you trying to play match maker as well?” the herbalist, snorted in response.

“I tell people whether or not romance is in their future. I don't try and cause it.” Angela's face grew even more solemn and grim as she spoke her next words, “All these foolish mortal woman throw themselves at him. It seems in his very presence, they forget that he can read their minds.” I failed a repressing a smirk. There were cries coming up from the southern border of the camp. My head turned in the direction of the bustling people. The shape of horses, and people perched upon those horses. Unthinkingly, I reached out with my mind, into their thought streams. Humans. Three humans. A man, his wife, and their son. The horses stayed at the edge of the dug precipice in which the rotting bones of the king's soldiers lay. A wide expanse of wood was laid over the jagged gap in the earth, so that they could cross. The man, was blonde, his clothes worn with travel, and his clear blue eyes weary. His wife clung to his back. Her dress ragged along the hem, her hair tied back in a wispy caramel braid. Their son rode on a separate horse. His bulky frame needing an entire animal to hold him aloft. His dark hair lay flat on his head. Curly and dusted with dirt. His clothes as travel worn as his parents. “We've come to join the Varden.” the blonde man announced tiredly. I could feel the fatigue from him, rolling off of him in waves. He was barely able to keep his eyes open. But nevertheless they were escorted to Nasuada's tent. Their minds searched and their souls bared, rendered them truthful and they were given tents. The whole encampment stared at them, wondering what these strangers could possibly want. I watched their tent, long after their candle had gone out. Wondering would I ever get to hug my mother, as the boy with the blacksmith's body had hugged his? My whole life I had been ignored. A symbol of disgrace on my mother's behalf. No self-respecting elf would pair with a human man, and later carry his child. So I had been shunned. And my father was dead. Murdered by the very creatures that Galbatorix had had in his control. “The human prospect of family is strange is it not?” it was he that I had shared a look with yesterday. The one, Solumbum had proclaimed to watch me. I repressed a shiver at his closeness.

“That may be so, but is it so very different from the way the elves of Du Weldenvarden share brotherly and sisterly love for one another?” I replied.

“Ah, you left out motherly and fatherly.”

“Either way you understand my point.” I did not take my eyes from the sleeping tent, even though my body buzzed with energy at his closeness. “Indeed I do.” this time I did shiver at his closeness. “By the way, my name is Edward.” and I felt his presence disappear, and I shivered again in remembrance of his whispered words against my ears. I sucked in a breath, gathered my resolve and looked for a place for my own rest. I settled for a post outside the main tent and fell into my waking slumber.

x-x-x

I lashed my pack securely closed, making sure enough bread was stowed away. If push came to shove then I would fast. Arya approached me. Even though I did not take my eyes from my pack. Even though I felt her presence. “Isabella I-”

“It is no use Arya. There is no need to apologize.”

“I have no right to discriminate against my own flesh and blood.” she disagreed quickly. I stood and turned to face her. “You are correct. You have no right to discriminate against your own flesh and blood. Family is family, regardless of what blood runs through your veins.” her eyes were downcast now. “Forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive. You are my sister Arya, no matter how rash you are. You are not the one who gave the order to have me cast out of my own birth home, you are not to blame.” our conversation was cut short by the approach of Edward. His sword firmly placed on his hip. “Are we prepared to leave?”

“You are accompanying us on our journey?” Arya said, raising an eyebrow. A slight smile played on his lips as he too raised an eyebrow. “Of course, I am a strong-spellcaster and good with the blade-”

“Fine, you are welcome to come along.” Arya interrupted, before Edward could talk some more about why he should come on the quest. I sighed and made sure my quiver was full of arrows and my bow sinewed and ready given any situation. My long dark hair was pulled back into a braid, held together with a strong leather band. My cloak was folded tightly at the bottom of my backpack, and my sword was attached securely to my hip. I was about to give the word for us to go, but I stopped seeing that Eragon was walking towards our group. He stopped in front of Arya. “May I have a word?” he asked. She nodded slowly and they walked away for a few feet. My gaze lingered on Eragon. “He loves her.” Edward stated quietly. I nodded. “He does.”

“Has she not noticed?”

“Arya is too preoccupied with concerns for things other than the hybrid who harbors love for her.”

“But how can she not see it, there, in his eyes? As plainly as you or I can see?” I shrugged.

“She is blind.”

“Love is blind.” I lifted my eyes to meet his and tried to sort out the double meaning behind his words. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Arya bowed her head and said something that made Eragon nod in....was it resignation? She then turned her back on him and walked briskly over to us. “Time is short.” was all she said, and we began our quest. Arya with not a second look back. But I knew that the Rider was watching her go. Whatever she had said to him, had seemingly broken his heart.

Chapter 4. The Journey Begins

We were camped not far from a small village, the darkness hid us. We didn't dare to light even a cinder of flame for fear of being discovered by the Empire's guards. We stayed to the east, just miles from the Hadarac Desert. The night wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm. The humidity in the air made us feel like we were drenched in human sweat. Edward had not looked away from me for today's portion of our journey. His slitted green eyes gazing at me from across the tiny clearing. Arya was in her state of sleeping wakefulness, her eyes closed to the world around her and seeing into the far reaches of her consciousness. “Why is it that love is denied for the longest period of time?” Edward's voice made my attention divert. I shrugged, “I would not know, I've never been in love.” Yet, a sneaky voice at the back of my mind told me. I internally rolled my eyes at it, that voice was reminding me of Angela. “Never?” whispered Edward.
“Never.” I confirmed. He leaned forward a bit.

“Maybe, that could change.” he whispered. I sighed.

“That's just it, isn't it? Nobody wants to mate with an elven hybrid, especially one that was ripped from her home because she was a disgrace to the face of the queen, even though all she did was exist.” I whispered, refusing to let the burn of tears take control. “Maybe, if you looked hard enough, you could find him.” Edward said. I let my eyes meet his and attempted a smile.

“Your optimism is a bit ironic Edward.” I said. He raised an eyebrow at me.

“How so?”

“Have you yourself not found someone?” I said.

“I have.” he murmured. The statement hurt more than it was supposed to.

“Who is she?” I whispered.

“A remarkable being, who's so close, but so far out of my very reach.” he whispered. A tremor went down my spine. “Goodnight Edward,” I whispered, before slipping into my waking slumber, and when my eyes no longer saw the night sky, but my own dreams.

-o-O-o-

It was the third night, and we had traveled almost thirteen leagues. I sensed the capital was near. Just the thought of being inside the lair of Galbatorix was enough to send sharp chills down my spine. We hid our faces, so nobody would stop to stare and draw attention to us. We all froze as the wind blew the familiar scent of humans in our direction, but we could also smell the taint of dragon. The bitter smell of a fallen rider stained the clothes the king's soldiers wore. We quickly ducked our heads, pretending to be lowly civilians. Fortunately the soldiers went right past us. I exhaled, releasing the breath I had been holding. Quickly taking in another breath of the humid air. The stars were blocked by a thick veil of angry clouds. Not even the moon's brilliance could pass through the murk that covered the sky. A low rumble echoed in the night. The smell of rain became more distinct upon the air. “Sounds like a storm is coming.” I murmured.

“Indeed.” Arya agreed.

“I wonder...what the egg shall look like,” I said. “What color it will be, and if it will be in similarity to Saphira's egg.”

“It most likely will, the only difference will be the personality and the color.” Arya responded. “And hopefully the gender.”

“Even if it did hatch into a male dragon the race of dragons would never be able to fully thrive like it did all those years again. With Galbatorix alive and with so much power clenched in his cursed fist, he could completely destroy them all if he wanted to.”

“But he won't. During the last battle, he gave the orders not to kill Eragon or Saphira, it was ordered that the two be untouched.” Arya argued.

“Why would he want the dragons to live again? Hasn't he already ruined the world? Made it into this swirling whirlpool of turmoil and hate? If he had committed suicide after losing his dragon it would have made it easier on all of us.” I said. Arya said nothing. But I couldn't help but notice Edward's silence. I gave him a long look, and turned my eyes ahead once more.

X-X-X

Nasuada sat behind her desk, the peace of the day almost enough to make her fully relax. But as leader of the Varden, she wasn't allowed to relax. Her guard was a solid wall made of rock, stone, and metal that couldn't even be brought down by the most peaceful of peaceful days. And her point would be proven when the panic stricken soldier rushed into the main tent. “My Lady, Murtagh has been spotted a mile away from camp borders.” Nasuada stood and exited the tent. Her guards not far behind her. The enormous Kull were standing at the ready. Through the haze of smoke and putrid fumes, she could see a glint of blood red. “Rouse Eragon! Soldiers, archers, Du Vangr Gata are to be called to duty immediately!”

Chapter 5. In The Enemy's Camp

We hid in the deepest, darkest alleyway we could find. Choosing to speak only with our minds. Every time a soldier walked past I wished to curl into a ball and hide. But no self-respecting elf hid from a human. Even a hybrid. Instead I just shot a glare at every soldier that passed and thankfully, they stopped passing this area. Their tales of an angry spirit that haunted the alley amused me. We planned for a week. Examining each possible situation. If someone were caught, the remaining were to stay hidden in the city until a plan was devised to help the captured. If I was captured, I wanted them to run and save themselves. I did not want them to wait and plan and devise. I wished them both to run, but both Arya and Edward refused to do so. I wanted to go in alone and retrieve the egg. Born from the womb of an elf gave me three times the energy of a regular spell caster. Eragon didn't have as much strength as I did, and he was the Rider. But he couldn't gain power well beyond the elves limitations. Even Galbatorix, couldn't send his great armies into Du Weldenvarden and take over the elven race. It was unheard of. Edward's slitted green eyes glinted in the shadowed alley. Giving them a surreal glow like he was from another world entirely. But they were glazed over, and told me he was lost in his subconscious. I stood and quietly flitted from the alley, my hood pulled up and the wooden staff I had crafted by using my sword as a carving tool, made me appear to be an old beggar. I adopted a slow, limping gait and making sure that I wasn't being watched, disappeared into the doorway that led to the servants' quarters.

-o-O-o-

“How big is his army? D'you reckon?”

“Hundreds, thousands maybe. With Galbatorix anything is possible.” Eragon had long flown off, sword in hand to confront Murtagh. The sounds of dragon's in battle and the occasional fragment of a spell would flow into the tent, garbled by the thick material. Nasuada didn't like this life, as much as it gave her great joy to lead the Varden to bring down the wretched king. The air suddenly sizzled with energy and Nasuada exited the tent in time to see the two Riders fighting intensely in the middle of the air. One of them Dark and the other one Light. Upon not being able to watch the battle any longer, she averted her eyes, and reentered the tent. And so she found herself pacing, feeling anxious about the outcome. Even though she had heard of Galbatorix's orders not to kill Eragon or Saphira, she wrung her hands nervously, her breathing harsh as she gripped her sword. Nasuada egressed the tent to get a look for herself, even though her guards protested. Her dark eyes narrowed on the specs in the sky that signaled Eragon and Murtagh. There was no army of soldiers clad in Galbatorix's colors. A cry rose up in the camp. “The Rider! He is returning!”

“The Dark One retreats!”

“Argetlam! Argetlam!” Nasuada released a shaky breath as one of the specs in the sky grew large while the other disappeared completely. Angela the herbalist appeared by her side, her expression solemn. Saphira landed on the outer edge of the camp, obviously tired, her fatigued Rider retreating into his tent. “He will speak with you after he regains his strength.” Angela said. Nasuada nodded, and reentered the tent, with Angela on her heels. “My apologies Angela, but is there something you need?” Nasuada's tone was curt and sharp. The herbalist raised an eyebrow. “I wanted to know if you figured it out yet.” the leader of the Varden gave Angela a long look.

“Figured out what?”

“That's what I was afraid of,” the herbalist sighed before exiting the tent. Her werecat however hopped onto the desk and stared down the ebony skinned woman. His red eyes glaring deep into hers. His voice penetrated her conscience and imprinting a message, “Brother and sister will be, and there will be peace among lovers, good day my Lady.” and with that Solembum slunk out of the tent, leaving the Leader of the Varden, frozen in place.

-o-O-o-

I kept my head down, not wanting to attract attention. I picked up a stick from somewhere in the steaming kitchens, using it as a supposed crutch to make it look like I had a hobble. I tried to make my steps jerky, human, and ungraceful. I searched, trying to avoid the clots of soldiers that patrolled the corridors. As I got closer to the throne room, the stench of dragon got stronger and the appearance of human soldier's was more common. I gave up trying to avoid them and hobbled along. I met no resistance, entering the throne room, but I didn't understand where the egg was hidden, the wretched king himself wasn't in the room and I took that to be not a very good sign. I quickly left, weaving through corridors and- I heard a voice. It was deep and masculine. And conversing with another male. I held my breath and my ears twitched. I couldn't catch the conversation at all. My arm was jerked and I was pulled roughly aside. “What is your business in the house of the king?” barked a soldier. I struggled, and with my strength, I won. I slipped away from him, my cloak dragging behind me. “BREACH! BREACH!” screamed the soldier, with a few choice words in the ancient language I made his heart compress and he died. I ran with all my might towards the servants quarters from which I came. I had to hide myself and quick but it was too late as I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up, and an overwhelming fatigue consumed me. I fell to my knees, struggling against the spell that bound me tightly, my breathing was harsh and heavy and a pair of boots came to a stop in front of me. And I saw no more.

-o-O-o-

Arya

The first thing I noticed when I awoke was that my sister was not there. In fact, she was completely gone. “Oh for the love of-” I muttered when I realized that she had gone in alone. That stupid, foolish-! “Where is she?” Edward's voice stirred me out of my angry mental rant.

“She's gone in. Alone.” I hissed. Thoroughly angry with her and myself. I was angry with Isabella because of her foolishness in thinking that she could accomplish the task of finding the dragon egg and getting it out of Galbatorix's lair without being detected by her lone person. I was angry with myself because I should have paid more attention to the fact that it was so like her to pull something like this. “We have to go in after her,” I said, preparing to move.

“We should wait,” Edward murmured. I turned an icy glare on him, his eyes penetrated right back, “If she does not come out by the time the moon rises, then we shall follow tomorrow morning.”

“You are a fool to think that I will let her stay in that wretched-” I started, but he interrupted me.

“I understand that she is your sister, but we must wait.” and with that I resigned. I stayed awake, listening for word. Other than the occasional scouting of the perimeter, we stayed in that alley. The streets were quiet other than the civilians conversing quietly amongst themselves to conduct business or gossip. But we heard nothing about a certain elven lady that had been taken captive inside the king's cursed fortress. When dusk approached, spreading it's bloody fingers across the sky, I became restless and worry began to burrow itself in my stomach. I resisted screaming foul oaths into the sky and instead gripped the stone walls at my left and right. Darkness fell....and Isabella was nowhere to be found.

Chapter 6. Four Days of Waiting

There was ice running through my veins. Pure ice. I couldn't move and swirling tide-pools of color were in front of my eyes. I saw the forests of Du Weldenvarden in front of me and I had sunk into madness. “Wake up, wake up I say!” my eyelids felt like there were weights holding them down. I could barely move. “I said wake up!” and there was a sharp pain to my abdomen. I curled in on myself and opened my eyes shakily. In front of me was the second Rider, Morzan's son. He was clad in black, his dark hair falling into his eyes. “Why are you here?” he asked me. I remained silent. His hand shot out and gripped me by my hair, yanking me up from the stone cot. “Why are you here?” he repeated. I kept my mouth shut. He went for the magical approach instead, making his hand into a claw and allowing an excruciating pain to bloom in my chest. I refused to cry out in pain, keep my lips sealed. He glared at me in frustration and stormed out of the cell. I lay on the floor where he dropped me, gasping for air and coughing fervently. It wasn't until blood spattered my hands that I collapsed again.

Day two dawned bright and red, and I lay there, trapped in my delusions of things that weren't there. My hands reached out to stroke the trunks of the trees, but when my hand only passed through cold air, I frowned to myself and tried again, only to discover that my hand would not touch the trees. I was deep in delirium, that much was true. If I kept seeing the forests of Du Weldenvarden, then I must be going mad. And then I became more and more aware of my body by the minute. My body ached and my eyelids felt like someone had hooked weights into them. I couldn't move. The slightest twitch, had me gasping through pain. I had no energy to use magic. I couldn't contact Arya, because that would take yet more energy that I didn't have. I had no choice, but to sit there and let my mind escape. I felt the sense of my nerves move through my arms. From what I could tell, my ribs had been bruised badly. There was most likely, some internal bleeding. A guard had come in with a tray of two things that they thought would keep me alive: food and water. Water...my mouth cried out for the liquid. But I didn't know what they had put in the drink. A drug, or poison perhaps. They most likely drugged the food too. After the cell had gone stale and cold, I could smell a faint hint of that perfume. If they saw that I wasn't eating, then they would most likely force-feed me. I lay there limply, shallow breaths escaping my dry lips. Drawing up my last reserves of strength I sat up, gritting my teeth so I could ignore the pain that bloomed in my abdomen. I was running out of time, and so I drank the water, feeling a bit more energy come back into my limbs and then a cold numbness crept up from my toes. I quickly cast a spell of silence on myself, that no one but me could undo, and promptly passed out as the drug reached it's goal. The jug slipping from my limp fingers and smashing to the floor.

I was woken up by the sound of keys, and the creak of the cell door as it slid open. Morzan's son entered the room, this time, clad in red. His hair was combed away from his face and he stood there for a moment, just analyzing me. He observed the smashed jug on the floor and his lip curled before he abruptly left the cell. The lock clicked a minute and a half later and I lapsed once again into a state of unconsciousness.

The next two days passed in a whir of blood and pain. Voices yelling at me to give them information and I thought I would have to endure this for week after week just like my sister. But all that changed when I was shaken awake by none other than Arya herself. Her hair pulled back into a braid and the guard laying deep asleep on the floor. “Wake, sister, wake! For we must flee!” she whispered frantically. I tried to move and thus ensuring more pain throughout my person. “Oh, for the sake of our Queen,” Arya muttered, and put my arm around her neck and helped me move out of the cell.

“Edward! Carry her! Quickly! Before we are discovered!” Arya whispered, handing me over to the male elf and I was cradled in his warm arms. I gripped Arya's forearm. “The egg, I know where it is,” I croaked. Putting the image into her mind with as much energy as I could muster before I passed into a state of unconsciousness.

Chapter 7. Success

I groaned as I shifted awake. Firm, warm hands stopped me from moving too much. “Stay still, your injuries are great.” Arya's voice penetrated my senses.

“The-the egg,” I whispered through the pain that shot through my torso.

“We have it,” Arya said. “We have succeeded.” I smiled, rejoicing that we had saved the last egg. “Now sleep, I will wake you up in a few hours when it is time to move again.” I did as she said and fell again into waking consciousness. The stars danced in my mind's eye. And I could detect the chant of healing words in the ancient language. Warmth bloomed in my tired body and murky visions swam about my consciousness. The second Rider, Eragon's half brother and son of Morzan, had been there too many times to count. And I distinctly remembered, Galbatorix trying to pry into my inhuman mind. I had felt his alien probe, and even in weakness I had remained closed off. The visions of the past few days disappeared as I felt a soothing consciousness touch my own. And for the first time, I took off into a deep and human sleep.

x-x-x

“Vakna!” Arya barked, startling me from my sleep. She was kneeling in front of me, her brow furrowed into an expression of deep concern. I sat up and yawned, rubbing my eyes. “What?” I slurred, for the first time in my life, groggy with sleep. Arya's eyes scanned my face. “I tried to wake you, which is usually very very easy indeed. But I couldn't.”

“So you used a spell to wake me? How very kind of you.” I drawled. Arya rocked backward on her heels. “You do not mean to say you actually slept!” she said astonished, her slitted eyes widening.

“I do.” I confirmed. Arya mumbled an oath, going deep into thought for a minute.

“Did you dream?” she asked.

“I do not remember,” I said. I noticed the absence of one in our small camp. “Where is Edward?”

“He went to find something that we can eat.” Arya said, turning to tend to the fire. “If it resorts to it, we will eat meat,” she mumbled. I shifted, the pain in my ribs had died to a dull ache. I noticed the new sack that hadn't been there when we traveled to Urû'baen. I also took notice that my pallet had been made of leaves and a thick woolen cloak that smelled of the dark city that we had just run from. We were surrounded by trees and the smell of desert wafted to my nose from the east, but the sound of water came from several miles further south of where we were. “How far are we away from the capital?” I asked.

“Half a league,” Arya answered bleakly. “Though I am still not satisfied with the distance.”

“We will soon reach Furnost, and from there once we pass Tüdosten, we will be in a safe zone once more.”

“Even once we reach the border of Surda, we will still have to circle to reach the Burning Plains.” Arya said curtly. “And I'm still worried of the outcome if Galbatorix's Rider catches up with us when you are not fully healed.”

“Just be thankful sister that they did not poison me like they did you,” I said. She jerked and turned to look at me with dark eyes. “Yes....indeed,” she mumbled. I sat up fully, carefully stretching into a standing position. “I know I was there for four days...how did you two manage to get me out?”

“We dulled our appearances and snuck in, pretending to be servants,” Arya informed me, “we managed to figure out where you were located by the mindset of the guards that brought you out for interrogation daily,” her voice cracked slightly on the word 'interrogation'. She abruptly turned to look at me, “If you ever attempt to do something like that again, I'll slit your throat!” she said. She said it calmly, but her hands shook furiously and her eyes flashed in anger and hurt. I embraced my sister, something I hadn't done for a very long time. She embraced me back just as tightly, before releasing me and turning her attention back to arousing the fire once more. Edward came out of the trees two dead rabbits clutched in his hands. “Is that all you could find?” Arya said, eying the raw meat. Edward sighed.

“Unfortunately. We could eat the leaves if we wished, but that wouldn't be very appetizing,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. His slitted green eyes twinkled in amusement. Flecks of gold danced around his elongated pupil and I found myself lost in those eyes. I shook myself and touched the sack that held the reason we had traveled this far. I picked it up and loosened the sack around it so that I may see it. The egg was white, thin veins of black snaked along it's shell. I allowed my fingers to skim it, marveling at the smoothness. Tougher than pure diamond and housing our salvation, it was cool and it gave me the feeling that I was touching something that was very important to the oppressed people of Alagaësia. In a sudden bold move, I pressed my hand to the surface of the egg. A noise, broke my concentration. The distant thud of horses hooves. Moving at an inhumane speed, the dead rabbits were buried, our things packed and we were already running. The last dragon egg, securely attached to my back.

x-x-x

We didn't stop running for three days, and it was only when we were a few miles from the lake of Tüdosten did we stop and rest. My torso had begun to ache again, my legs were shaky. Arya seeing me clutching my abdomen in pain let out a low oath and was quickly over by my side to help me. “We should not have run, we should have hid, instead of risk you injuring yourself further,” she tsked.

“I'm fine,” I said firmly. “Another full nights rest without your damned chatter and I shall be right as rain,” Arya looked me over with a critical green eye that was so much like my own but in so many ways, so different. I noticed that Edward hadn't said much, remaining quiet all these days. Arya stood and went to go scout for food or any other signs of life. I turned my gaze on Edward in the meantime. “Why do you sit there, and act so...unresponsive?” I said. “Are you not happy that we have achieved what we have been sent to achieve?”

“Of course I am happy,” he said softly, “But I am mostly happy because you are still alive.” I was struck stupid by his words, unsure of whether he was poking fun at me. Reading my expression he smirked and shook his head, “Nay, fair Isabella, I do not joke. I was truly concerned and I am still angry that you would get it within your royal head to go charging off into Galbatorix's lair on your own.” his tone as well as his expression became hardened, anger flashing in his slitted eyes that had begun to turn amber in his anger. He leaned towards me, “Never again, will you do something so incredibly stupid and idiotic and make me to be as afraid for you as I was then.” and he pressed a kiss to my lips. Chaste but shocking nonetheless.

x-x-x

Furnost. The inn there was small and smelled of alcohol and human men, but we convened in the small room that we purchased. “We're not far from the Burning Plains,” Edward said softly. “If we keep going at the rate we're going, we'll reach the Varden soon.”

“Aye,” Arya agreed. She became silent for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. Edward fell asleep near the door, and I looked to my sister, “Why do you not love him back?” I asked her. She startled, her eyes widening at me, “I see the way he looks at you, he is a good man, and I see you fight yourself.” she closed her eyes, “We must rest, a hard journey is ahead of us.” and with that, the subject was dropped.

-o-O-o-

The impact of the angry hand sent him reeling across the throne room floor. Murtagh didn't bother to press a hand to avert the stinging in his cheek, knowing good and well, that the king's rings had left cuts in his skin. The low grumble of Thorn could be heard throughout the fortress. “THEY HAVE TAKEN IT!” the king bellowed. “AND YOU INSOLENT BOY, HAVE LET THEM!” Murtagh stood, impassive, the welts on his cheek beginning to flame. He would have to heal them later. “If it weren't for your usefulness, your heart would be on this platter,” Galbatorix, thumped his heavy boot on the empty silver tray that the servants had brought him, serving a goblet of wine and a morsel of delectable wild boar. A waste of effort. The silver had ended up on the floor anyways. The wine splashed on the walls, staining the stone and giving the impression that human blood had been spilled in the flickering light of the flame that adorned the wall. “Forgive me, master,” the word was poison on Murtagh's tongue as he spoke it, “I was not aware of their infiltration and later escape until-”

“Of course you weren't, you stupid foolish boy,” the king purred. Sounding calm and very amused, but the undercurrent of his tone was indeed deadly. He climbed up to his throne once more, adorned with the jewels from the swords of the Forsworn, all except for Morzan's, that of which was still in the hilt of the original elven work, held in Murtagh's hand. “She was an elf you say? Dark hair, and bearing a resemblance to the one Arya?” Galbatorix said.

“Yes,” the Rider responded. How did it come to this? He pleaded mentally to his dragon. Thorn, thankfully shielding his words from the malicious king. I wish I knew, sighed the dragon. Thorn thought of Eragon and the lovely elven woman that had been housed in the cell. Murtagh cringed, both at the mental sight of his half-brother and at the woman he was forced to torture. How his mind was searched for the true images of his person demanding answers of her, and attempting to coax the answers out of her with continuous pain. Had the king not learned his lesson with the elves? Their minds were of impenetrable steel, and their mouths locked tight against his repeated interrogation. He had tried with Arya, and again with Isabella. Her skin had a strange luminosity, it was very dim, but it could be seen in pure darkness. How the angles of her features were softened by human blood and the slightly broader stature. The king registered the fact that Isabella was only half elven with great glee, but in the back of his mind a prick of hollow dread had begun to form in his stomach.

-o-O-o-

We had left the inn and were now making our way out of the city, towards our destination. We were already very far away from Urû'baen. We were right on the border of Surda, night had fallen and we decided to rest and travel until we reached the Varden camp the next day. Edward sits near the fire, giving me a fleeting smile before directing his gaze back to the flames. I turn in the dirt and stare blankly off into space as I fall into my waking slumber. I dream of Du Weldenvarden and it's lush green forests as I travel through the natural village. I cross the bridges connecting the tree-houses that we sang. I dreamed of my mother's face and the sadness as she told me I could no longer live in the forests of our people. That I did not belong there, because of my heritage. It is not the reliving of my painful memories that wakes me, but a shrill squeak.

Chapter 8. Hatch

I sat up, immediately looking at the egg I kept not far from me. My body almost completely curled around it. It was shaking violently, wobbling back and forth. Arya was alert in less than a minute, Edward was poised, scanning the area. “Oh....my-” Arya said in a whisper, staring wide eyed at the egg that was within two inches of me. A crack appeared in the shell, the wobbling becoming more and more violent, another few high pitched squeaks as more cracks appeared in the shell. And then the egg burst, revealing the tangled, white, scaly mass within. I released the breath I didn't realize I was holding. The dragon opened it's pale gray eyes and flipped onto it's legs. It blinked it's eyes at me, cocking it's head to the side and bowed it's head, nudging itself forward. Hesitantly, I reached out and stroked it's head, and simultaneously an icy hot pain flared in my hand and ran up into my arm, and I passed out.

x-x-x

I groaned and shifted, blinking my eyes open. It was dawn, the sky beginning to turn pink at the edge of the horizon. I looked at my hand, and there it was. The gedwëy ignasia was smack dab on the palm of my hand. Something warm was curled into my side and the dragon was there, resting. I realized that it's body had turned black and as the sun touched it's scales, they began to turn white again. I groaned a little at the ache in my head. The dragon opened it's pale eyes and cocked it's head to the side, wondering why I was making such strange noises. This dragon was most likely a male, since I had heard that Saphira had been the last female egg. “Well, glad to see that being marked hasn't killed you.” Arya said from the other side of the camp fire. I gave her a look and she shrugged. The dragon yawned, exposing it's teeth and and sniffing around for something to eat. “Arya, he, is very much hungry.”

“I'm aware of that.” Edward's voice replied to me instead. He tossed two dead desert rats, a rabbit and what smelled like a type of lynx. The dragon jumped eagerly over my body and began to tear at the meat. It's sharp teeth tearing into it's flesh, the black talons holding the carcass in place. After gnawing on the rabbit, the dragon cleaned himself, then laid his scaled head on my lap. He was fully white now, but the spikes and talons lining his back were a deep black. A deep rumbling inside his belly gave the impression of a cat's purr. I smiled and stroked his head tenderly. “You have not even begun to touch consciousness with the beast and you already love it,” Arya's tone was teasing, her eyes twinkled. In so many years I have not seen such a happy look on her face. But then her expression became solemn. “What do you think Islanzadi will say? When she finds out you are the destined Rider, and the last dragon has hatched for you?” she said. I shrugged.

“She will be most likely try to make amends, apologize for what she said, and then attempt to put me in a situation that I do not want to be put in.”

“I would agree on the making amends part,” Arya began, “But you cannot keep ignoring each other! Things will just escalate.”

“You are wise to say so, sister,” I said. “But she is the one who said I could not reenter the forest that I have called home for so many years. All because my father wasn't elven, and she could not bear to face the mortification my face seen in the forests would cause.” My fists clenched, remembering that day, as clear as if I were experiencing it all over again. “He was a Rider, a member of the Varden and though she admired him deeply, she was still embarrassed by what she had done. But he had also given her a daughter! A daughter that she obviously did not love enough to risk her throne!” I spat, glaring at the dirt. Arya's mouth hung open, horrified. “I always thought....it was because you-you betrayed us...” she murmured. My eyes snapped to hers. Darkening in my anger, “Betray? My own people? Bah! I knew there was something unusual as far as my physicality went, but mentally I was just like anyone else! I know now that I was wrong to think I was like you in any way! I'm still partially human! I still crave meat, I still feel pain more receptively! I tire a fraction of a second quicker than you do!” I shook my head. “And I was a fool.” I stood, the dragon in my arms as I began to walk off towards the Burning Plains.

-o-O-o-

Upon entering camp, I was greeted in shock. I knew Arya and Edward were not far behind me and they both followed me to the tent in the middle of the Varden camp. Onlookers stared at the dragon I cradled in my arms, how it rested contently even though it's stomach vibrated with the need for more meat. I walked into the tent and Nasuada's reaction was immediate, her dark eyes flashed and she stood. “What is this?” she demanded.

“You asked me to deliver an egg, well here it is,” I said.

“It wasn't supposed to hatch on the way back,” Nasuada raised her eyebrow at it.

“I agree, it wasn't, but it sensed me as it's Rider and hatched anyways...while in my arms,” I explained. Nasuada sighed and rubbed her forehead, “We just received from new refugees, and we'll have to look for a new source of meat....decisions, decisions.” she muttered. She eyed the dragon curiously, which then sensed it was being watched and blinked open it's large eyes. Scrutinizing her with a large gray iris. Saphira stuck her giant blue head in, and turned her head to inspect it, a slitted sapphire eye watching the tiny scaly creature in my arms. He will grow to be strong, she said firmly in my mind. Maybe even make a fine male. I smiled at her and rubbed her snout. She closed her eyes and hummed in content. Nasuada eyed the hatchling in my arms and sighed, standing up. “Eragon, you'll assist Lady Isabella here in the raising of her dragon,” Nasuada said. Eragon nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Dismissed,” Nasuada said curtly.

x-x-x

The fledgling in my arms was stared at often, and the little creature was already making trouble in the assigned tent we were given. He explored what living space we had, and went to work putting a dent in the sleeping place for him. Meat was given and he devoured it all, after which, yawning profusely, exposing his long white fangs then settling down to take a nap. I theorized that the king was angry, and so far, no army had been sent this way. For all he knew I wasn't even part of the Varden, I could be just an elf, an agent of Islanzadi. But I highly doubted that he would accept it. He probably already knew that I was a half-breed. Arya poked her head into the tent, “Isabella? A message was sent from Du Weldenvarden, I think you need to hear it.” I glanced toward the hatchling and left the tent. A messenger was standing in front of Nasuada in the big tent. His dark hair was pulled back into a braid down his back. “Ah, I see you've fetched Isabella, thank you Arya. State your name, elf,” Nasuada said, giving him a polite nod.

“My name is Demetri, messenger of the Elven Royal Court,” he spoke, his voice lilting, deep and musical. “I come with a message for the Rider, Princess Arya, the Leader of the Varden and other counterparts,” Demetri stated. “Queen Islanzadi would like to inform you that Eragon Shadeslayer, Shur'tugal, is invited to Du Weldenvarden to celebrate the Festival of Riders. Princess Arya and any other friends of importance may be invited. Shall I request a reply?” Nasuada smiled and her eyes flicked to me and my right hand, which clenched into an involuntary fist. “Yes, please tell Her Majesty that the final dragon egg has been retrieved and already hatched to a chosen Rider.” I wanted to scream and yell curses. But this was inevitable, I bit my tongue and swallowed my growing agitation and anger. Demetri's expression morphed into one of shock, “May I ask the name of the newly bred Shur'tugal? Her Majesty would want to know immediately.”

“Yes, Isabella Svit-Kona,” Nasuada announced. It was then Demetri acknowledged my presence in the room, his eyes bulging even more. An odd expression on an elf. I was the outcast, the disgrace for being a half-blood. Demetri gave me a small bow. “Argetlam,” he murmured, “Welcome Shur'tugal.” I nodded back curtly. I turned to Nasuada, unable to deal with the pressure in my chest. “May I be dismissed?” I asked. She gave me a look of concern and nodded. I left the tent and made sure I was several yards away before breaking into a run back to my tent.

x-x-x

“Odd little thing isn't he?” Eragon said, scratching the dragon between the spines on his head. The dragon hummed and nuzzled his head into Eragon's touch. I laughed, “Looks like he likes you.”

“Why does he turn black at night and white during the day?”

“I don't know, but his spines and talons stay the same,” I said.

“I wonder what happened to his parents,” Eragon mused.

“We may never know, but as long as he's out of the clutches of that wretched king,” I said. “Did you ever know your parents?”

“No, I only knew my aunt and uncle, but they were like a father and mother to me, but I know who my parents are.”

“Are they still alive?” I asked.

“No, they're both gone. My father more recently than my mother,” he answered.

“I'm sorry,” I replied, “My father is dead too, he was mortal. But my mother is still alive,” I murmured.

“Thus why you are only Arya's half sister,” he replied. I nodded. “I daresay you are probably the first and only female Rider in history,” Eragon said. My mouth quirked.

“Imagine that, eh? First and only biological half-breed,” I chuckled darkly.

“Brom would have been amazed,” Eragon murmured. I frowned slightly.

“Brom? You knew him?”

“Yes, he trained me himself, until he died,” he paused and swallowed, “he was my father.” I turned to him, shock on my face. “You are sure of this? Entirely?” I asked.

“Yes, why wouldn't I?”

“Because...because Brom was my father too.”

Chapter 9. Calling

There was nothing to say after finding out that Eragon was my half brother. Things were completely awkward after that, and I noticed Saphira looking at me with a twinkle in her big blue eye. Arya knew nothing about what I had discovered. She didn't know who my father was, if she did I knew she was smart enough to put things together and figure out the final conclusion. My dragon was growing steadily now, but I didn't have the heart to name him when he couldn't even fully telepathically communicate yet. It had only been a week and yet his wingspan was wider than the tent already. His snout could already touch my hip and I was somewhat concerned about his growing rate. I was told it was normal, and I almost thought to ask Saphira, but seeing as she never laid any eggs of her own, it would have just made an awkward conversation. Eragon and I had not spoken for over a fortnight now and the messenger to Islanzadi hadn't come back with the response yet. I cringed at the thought of my mother inviting me back into the forests. Of course, it was my home. But the circumstances would cause everything to be entirely awkward. And if I stood before my mother again, things certainly wouldn't be smooth as I wanted them to be and I was afraid. I lay on the pallet in my tent, tracing the gedwëy ignasia. My scaly companion, two and a half times the size he was when he hatched was sleeping peacefully next to me. His back rising and falling with each loud breath he took. His scales were still white, but if he took a step outside the tent at nighttime, his scales would immediately turn black. He abruptly woke with a snort. A smoke ring appearing from his nostrils before blowing away in the wind. I smiled at him, and reached out a hand to touch him. He willingly put his snout into my palm, nuzzling into my touch. “Hi, iet little vinr,” I murmured to him, scratching between the spikes on his head. A human boy burst into the tent, “Lady Argetlam!” he panted, obviously having run all the way here, “The messenger from Du Weldenvarden has returned!” the dragon began to growl at the boy.

“Mor'ranr,” I whispered impatiently to him.

“And it has also been requested you take the dragon with you to the meeting.” the boy stammered nervously, looking at the dragon that had it's teeth bared and ready to pounce. “Forgive him, he is probably hungry. Vinr! Maela!” I commanded softly. I nodded to the boy, dismissing him and turned to my dragon that had settled among the little nest of blankets that had been made next to my pallet. “You're welcome to come along?” I asked. He snorted and rested his head on his front claw. I shrugged and left the tent, my boots making little noise on the hard-packed dirt of the plain. I entered the tent and witnessed Demetri standing before Nasuada again. “Ah, Lady Isabella. I see you are here and awake. Where is your dragon?”

“He chose to stay behind My Lady,” I said, bowing slightly. Eragon I noticed, wouldn't meet my eyes. Nasuada raised an eyebrow. “Very well then, deliver your message so-” several yells came from outside the tent and Nasuada stood and frowned. “What the devil-?” she began. My dragon stomped into the tent, snuffling and snorting the whole way. I coughed and bit my lip to keep from laughing. “I assume you changed your mind?” I said to him, he snorted and bumped his snout against my hip. Nasuada sat down again, an eyebrow raised in the direction of my dragon, his hide black from the nighttime. “Well then, your message?” she said to the messenger. Demetri cleared his throat and began to speak. “Queen Islanzadi welcomes Isabella Argetlam and extends the invitation to her as well. The celebration will start soon. I'm pretty sure Garzhvog knows the date,” he sent a look towards the furry elf near the entrance to the tent. “Any request for a reply?” he concluded.

“No, you may leave,” Nasuada said. After the elven messenger was gone she addressed us. “I do not feel comfortable with you leaving camp, especially so close to the retaliation we're expecting from Uru'baen anytime now. The king is most certainly angry with the taking of the egg, and he most likely knows who did it,” she said, her dark eyes serious as they bored into all of us. “Take strict precaution. I want you back here as soon as the festival ends, seeing as we cannot afford to insult the elven Queen and not going to the festival will be doing so. Take your weapons and make haste. Isabella, I have absolutely no idea how you're going to transport your hatchling from here to Du Weldenvarden, but may the gods smile on you. Dismissed.”

Chapter 10. Coming Home

Fortnight Later....

I adjusted the saddle on my horse before looking at my scaled friend. He looked up at me with steel gray eyes and snorted, blowing out a smoke ring. Arya came up beside her own horse, adjusting the saddle. She saw me having the staring contest with my dragon and smirked. “Isabella, is there something going on between you and Eragon?” she asked me seriously. I met her concerned gaze before I exhaled. “Arya, there is nothing going on between us and Eragon. We just had a mild misunderstanding. That's all.”

“If it was a 'mild misunderstanding' then why don't you two communicate? You're the only two Riders in this camp, the only two half-bloods and I told myself that I would be damned if I didn't see you two befriend each other.”

“Sister, have you ever taken into account that we might not get along?” I said, quirking an eyebrow at her. She raised one at me in response. “That is a pile of dragon shit, and you know it,” she said. I snickered at hearing her swear and she gave me a glare in return. “And you've been avoiding Edward as well-”

“I want nothing to do with that man,” I said, turning my back on her to check my bags again to make sure I had the spare meat for him. I heard Arya sigh before she muttered, “Too bad, because he certainly wants everything to do with you.” I happily ignored that statement and mounted my horse just as Eragon mounted Saphira. Our eyes met and he quickly glanced away. The awkwardness between us would have to be resolved sooner or later and I felt Saphira's mental poke as I lightly dug my heels into the sides of my horse. Yes, Saphira? I inquired.

Young one, please tell me that you have every intent of talking with Eragon, she pleaded.

Saphira, he just found out that he has yet another blood relative that's still alive- I began.

I am well aware of this. But he cannot shut himself out. He needs to interact, and besides you are the only Rider besides himself that is not with Galbatorix, she said. I fear for his emotional well-being. And despite what he thinks, he needs someone other than me to confide in.

You are his dragon, you both need that communication, I said.

Just talk to him, that's all I ask, she said and all connections were cut off. I released a breath and adjusted myself in the saddle. The day's ride was difficult and it was decided the best way to get to Du Weldenvarden and avoid being spotted by the Empire was to cut straight across the Hadarac Desert. The horses were given spells of endurance and we rode for several days straight. My dragon could fly, though Saphira said he was a little early and I worried for him a little, even though she was keeping an eye on him. We stopped for the night, letting the horses have their fill of water. The rest of our contingent came to a stop and we all rested. I made sure my dragon was fed and within the next two minutes of digestion he curled up on the hard sandy floor of the desert and slept. By dawn we were traveling once more. We traveled for three more days before we came upon the forests again. The magic weaved into the trees pressed into me from all sides, hugging me firmly and I breathed in the smell. I felt home and I was filled with sadness that I couldn't stay. My hand sought out my dragon and I felt his snout butting into my hand. An elf dropped out of the trees when we got further in, letting us pass when we spoke the customary words. His eyes lingered on me as I led my horse with one hand and my other touching my dragon. It hurt to be back, and Arya must have sensed this because she rested a hand on my shoulder briefly, squeezing gently before releasing me. The familiarity of the forest had me half uncomfortable. Nothing had really changed, except for a few more houses that had been sang from the trees. A part of me wanted to scream and burst into tears, the other wanted to turn tail and run. I would do neither and face my mother. Several elves murmured, 'Argetlam' when we passed, but they were most likely saying it to Eragon, instead of me. My nerves grew when we stood outside the palace, the guards having taken our horses to the stables. I shifted my weight and I entered. She sat on her throne, a coat of fallen swan feathers draped across her shoulders. Her eyes didn't immediately go to me, instead she turned to Arya and embraced her. After exchanging endearments she welcomed Eragon and he repeated the customary greetings. She finally turned to me, there was a hardness to her eyes, but also an underlying sadness. I inclined my head and mumbled my greetings. “Isabella,” she said quietly. “Is it true you are...Shur'tugal?” I stripped off the leather glove that concealed my hand and held up my palm for the court to see. The lightning glanced off the mark, making it seem almost luminescent. She reached for my hand and I withdrew it, not wanting to feel her touch. “Um, I think we should go get settled in now,” I said quietly. And I left the palace heading for the edge of the forests, I willed for no one to follow us and I sat on the grass next to a tree. I rubbed my eyes with my hands, rough leather on one, pale calloused skin on the other. I wanted to say “Damn it all!” and leave. But that would surely upset my mother. I had no choice but to continue. My own half-brother wouldn't look me in the eye to discuss a dead man that we happened to share blood with. He was sulking, being childish and avoiding what needed to be confronted. And I let him because I didn't want to dare instigate. On top of my added stress I was here in Du Weldenvarden, for a festival that I didn't really want to attend despite the fact that I was part of it. Some would argue that the egg wasn't supposed to hatch in the first place while I argue that it was pure fate that had him sense me, a half-breed and a female no less, as his Rider. “Why do you sit here and mope child, when there is feasting to be had?” a voice croaked, I looked up into the tree and stared at the bird that usually sat on the rim of my mother's throne at Tialdarí Hall. This wast he clearest I had ever heard him speak in years. “Hello Blagden,” I said quietly, not moving from my place on the forest floor. He just stared at me, his head cocked to the side before screaming, “Wyrda!” and flying away. I shook my head at him and allowed a small smile to myself. “That bird speaks truth. You best be skipping along to the hall of royals.” I smirked and turned. “Quickpaw, how kind of you to stop by,” I said. She waved a clawed hand at me, her stiff white-blonde bangs dangling into her eyes. “Be as it may, you are not overjoyed to be returning home,” was all she said and any happiness at seeing my old friend disappeared.

“No, why would I? I was banished from my own land and for what? To cover the fact that my father was former Shur'tugal?”

“You believe that this is not your home any longer,” the werecat half-growled. Tears pricked at my eyes and I shook my head a little. “Du Weldenvarden will always feel like home, but no, it can never actually be home,” I said.

“I be proceeding to the feast, and if you wish to get your fillings, you best be going too. I wish you well Isabella-Argetlam,” she slunk away, making next to no noise on the grass and I smiled a little despite the tears that came freely and I stood, placed my tear-streaked face against the trunk of the nearest tree and began to sing a soft song.

Chapter 11. Communication

Eragon was sitting by the creek, probably speaking to Saphira while she hunted. She wasn't too far away, eating a wild something. I wrinkled my nose. A large sapphire eye turned in my direction and she gave me a grunt in greeting. “Hullo Saphira,” I greeted. Eragon turned to look at me. “Eragon,” I said. He grimaced and turned his attention back on his dragon. I sat beside him and released a breath. “I didn't see you...at the celebration,” he said. I bowed my head.

“Festivals are for happy souls, not for those who are avidly depressed,” I said.

“Are you depressed?” he murmured.

“Not as much as I was before,” I said. “But I am still sad.”

“Why? I thought you would be happy to finally be home,” he asked. I shook my head.

“You must understand, I wouldn't even be here if I wasn't Shur'tugal. I was banished because I share blood with Brom,” I said.

“Is that such a bad thing? To share blood with an old Rider?” Eragon said. I shrugged.

“It's not that he was a Rider, it was that he was human practically,” I explained. “And we can't ignore the fact that we're siblings Eragon.”

“I'm just still in shock that I'm related to royalty,” he said, his slitted eyes widening slightly. I chuckled.

“Yes, just like I'm still in shock that I have a half-brother,” I teased. “But at least we've found each other, that's all that matters don't you agree?”

“Yes,” he muttered. “Then you know that Murtagh is also-”

“Yes, I'm aware of Murtagh's identity and that you share the same mother,” I said. “Eragon, just know that it is not who you share blood with that makes you who you are, it is your actions that define your person. Remember that.” I put a hand on his shoulder and stood to leave.

“Isabella?” he said. “Arya told me that...that you didn't sleep in the Hall where the other royals are.”

“No, I didn't...why do you mention it?” I asked.

“You know...you don't have to isolate yourself,” he said softly. My lips twitched as if they wanted to smile, but that quickly sorted itself out. “No, I don't have to. But they choose to,” I said. The ground was moist under my boots. I stopped short and took a different route, using all the means that I could to avoid Islanzadi. “Isabella!” I ignored the call and sped up my pace instead, almost to a run. I know I probably looked like a coward, running from my own mother but I couldn't care less. I climbed into my temporary and mediocre tree house. My dragon waiting on a small bed that I made up for him out of leaves and old furs from his kills. I gave him no name yet because I think he deserved to have a say in his name. His large gray eyes flicked to where I stood by the door. Du Weldenvarden was like some sort of growth hormone for him as he had gotten bigger since our arrival. His wingspan was already larger than the command tent back at the Varden's camp and his head the size of a shovel's blade. His fangs were thicker than the circumference of my wrist. For now I called him Vinr, and I was sure he understood. I exhaled harshly sweeping stray locks of hair back from my face. I went to the bowl of water sitting on my bedside table and placing my hand over the small pool I allowed the spell to pass my lips. Everything looked well, the camp intact, Nasuada safe. I sighed and let the image fade from my sight and rubbed a hand over my eyes. I shot a sidelong glance at my scaled little friend who was still looking at me with his large gray eyes. “If only things in the world were simpler, eh?” I said. He snorted, releasing a ring of smoke before resting his head on top of his claws and breathing out in a huff. “Yeah, I know...mothers,” I muttered and chuckled half-heartedly before dropping my gaze to the floor. I sat on the pallet I made and leaned my head back against the wooden wall. My vision blurred as I fell into my wakeful-slumber.

Flame...it danced behind my eyelids. It sang it's song to me, a beautiful sound, but it was marred by the screams of women and yells of dying men. My sword hung in my hand by my side and my eyes couldn't help but take in the scene. Soldiers fighting on one side, villagers running on the other. The roars of dragons could be heard, yells and the sizzle in the air from the energy caused my eyes to water. A child hid behind a load of barrels, cowering and shaking from the force of his sobs and I could see why. Just two feet away lay his father, a spear impaling him directly through the chest. He saw my approach and crawled backwards on hands and feet, pleading in a foreign language that I not hurt him. I tried to communicate that I would cause him no harm, that I would lead him to safety, but he continued to shy away from my touch. “Please, let me help you,” I pleaded. The boy just screamed and buried his face in his arms. I sighed realizing the boy would be of no help to me and backed off. “You can't save them all Isabella,” a guttural male voice spoke. “It would be foolish of you to think so.” I shook my head. “I should at least try. I am a Rider after all,” I replied.

“Do not think that your attempts go unnoticed, but you will drive yourself insane in thinking of all the lives you couldn't save...all the lives that I've taken,” his response caused me to turn around and I was facing down the wretched king himself. The fires had stopped and the town was empty of living people except for myself, Galbatorix and the boy. He gesticulated to the ashes that had once been houses, and the dead people that had once been content villagers. “Soon this, will be the world, and you can do nothing to stop it,” his voice was completely dead, in no monotone, but I could swear that he was laughing at me and I swung at him with my sword. He parried the blow easily, matching my speed. I quickly twisted my wrist in a strike, but again he blocked me. I struggled to maintain a cool head before I finally got in a hit, striking him down and knocking away his sword -

“ISABELLA!” I started back into awareness. I glanced around the room, my body covered in cold sweat, my chest heaving with shallow breaths. My heart was pounding furiously and I put my palm over the place where it should be, hoping to calm myself soon. No one else was in the room except for my dragon. He was only two feet from me, his large head resting on my calf and his large gray eyes staring directly at my head. Isabella. . . .I blinked. The voice that had spoken in my head was male. Isabella. . . .Isabella. . . . “Yes, I hear you,” I sighed reaching out a hand to stroke his head. He leaned into my touch, making a humming noise deep in his chest. I smiled a little and leaned back against the wall again. It was a long time that I lay there in my tree house, just contemplating the aspects of this war. It was only natural that Galbatorix thought he would win, and there was a very good chance that he would. If anything we were evenly matched. There were two Riders on his side, and two Riders on ours. Himself and Murtagh; Myself and Eragon. Though I was a Rider, my dragon was not fully grown and it's not like it could breathe fire. I chanced a look out of the small window, noticing that it was barely dawn and I realized my breath in a huff. I was still wearing my clothes from when I had arrived here being the tough leather trousers and the coarse shirt spun from cotton wool. It was nothing special and I intended to keep it that way despite everyone expecting me to stay in Tialdarí Hall. I made to stand up and my dragon moved his head from my leg. “I'll go for a walk, you're welcome to stay here and get more sleep,” I told him before exiting. I swung myself down to the forest floor, my knees bending to absorb the shock. The forests were quiet and I took my time in walking along. The first strained rays of sun almost succeeded in burning away the frigid chill in the forest air. My shortened braid bounced against my back, the familiar weight of my sword on my left hip left me with some comfort. “Wyrda!” I looked up to see the pale crow on a branch above my head.

“Blagden,” I greeted, he just cocked his head to the side to examine me with one beady eye. I chuckled at the little bird and continued my walk.

“She who is lost, will never be found, she thinks herself small, and chooses to sleep elsewhere than Tialdarí Hall,” he recited in his hoarse throaty voice.

“And she likes to kill small birds too,” I taunted. He gave an indignant squawk at me and flapped off. I smirked in his direction.

“Don't mind him, that little bird always says things he shouldn't,” I didn't turn around at the sound of my mother's voice.

“Is there something you need my Queen?” I murmured.

“Isabella-” she began.

“I should go,” I said hurriedly.

“Isabella, I-”

“If my Queen does not desire anything then maybe I should take my leave now,” I muttered.

“Isabella, please hear me out,” she said hurriedly. “I think I should apologize-”

“Well I don't want it, I don't want your apology now when I should have had it years ago,” I turned to face her. Her gown was of blue silk and her long black hair was loose. I could see so much of Arya in her, in the shape of her eyes, the color of her hair, the smile... “I shouldn't expect to be treated differently because I am not Shur'tugal,” I said.

“Then you are a fool, because you will be looked upon with new eyes with the new mark upon your hand,” she said it so coldly that I almost flinched instead I stared her down.

“I don't have to stand here and listen to you scold me any more than you already have for something that isn't even my fault,” I retorted, my tone just as cold. A crease appeared in her forehead, her eyes reflecting her hurt and her anger. “With all due respect my Queen, I have a dragon to attend to,” before I turned my back to her I saw her flinch at the title of which I addressed her. I calmly strode back to my tree house and again climbed up into the cabin. He was there, licking his claws clean and paused in his work to glance at me. “Mothers,” I grizzled. “Just be glad you never had to put up with one.” I could have sword I felt amusement flicker through the bond we shared and I shot him a sharp look. “Don't laugh at me!”

I wasn't laughing...Isabella, he said. I sighed and shook my head at him.

I think it's already been established that you can communicate with me now, I said.

It was hard at first, he said, but I finally managed to get the words right. I gave him a fond smile and crouched in front of him. I'm glad you did, friend.

Chapter 12: Misnomer

“Don't. Get. Overconfident!” I barked, each word punctuated with a blow or a jab, my sword clanging against his. Eragon grunted in response and threw his entire weight into a jab which I dodged easily. I made a swift slash towards his ribs, which he deflected and then tried to counter-attack, another blow I parried. Our swords were locked in mid-air, when the horn was blown. The one that signified an urgent message, news or a death. I remembered hearing it when I was a child, and the reaction to the horn was the same as all those years ago. The very air seemed to tense and still it's lungs. Our swords lowered to our sides, my hands sliding mine back into the sheath strapped to my hip. The horn has been blown, I said.

Yes, I am well aware. The Queen has received a notification from the Varden, I noticed that he didn't say 'your mother'. Calling her my mother felt bitter in my mouth, it was like putting seithr oil down my throat. Eragon and I made our way back to the Hall, where she would no doubt request our presence. The celebration was over and we were to begin our journey tomorrow. The queen was pacing back and forth in front of the old council. Arya came to stand next to me, and I wanted to recoil from the fact that she looked so much like Islanzadi. It almost bothered me...almost. If it weren't for the fact that her jawline and cheekbones were different than I would have avoided looking at my sister completely. “As soon as the day is out, a contingent of warriors will head back to the Varden including the original guard,” Islanzadi decided. “I suggest you pack wisely and lightly.” this order could only mean one thing: Galbatorix was retaliating against us, for the loss of the last egg.

~D~o~F~

I let out a low curse as I stabbed yet another soldier before striking off his head in yet another strike of my sword. I clenched my teeth and barked yet another spell, taking out another forty soldiers and immediately besieged by the next three thousand or so. Of course, the city was in chaos. Houses burned, and the cries of young children clashed with the sounds of raging battle. It was so much like my dream, but I couldn't allow my mind to wander. I was left stranded on the battlefield as the last of the circle of my opponents fell away. Eragon! I shouted.

Here! He replied.

There are too many of them, I said, go to the South gate and try to lessen their numbers.

I will, he said.

Be safe, brother. A soldier tried to attack me from behind, but I was too fast, impaling him with my sword and jerking the blade out of his gut. I whirled my sword around my hand, readjusting my grip. The stench of blood on metal and the smoke from the fire made my eyes smart but nonetheless I drove my sword through the necks of five soldiers and they were all dead. My dragon was holding his own, slashing with his tail and snapping with his teeth. The battle became a haze, in which I was completely driven by instinct.

x-x-x

I groaned and rolled over, feeling a joint crack soundly. My body felt sticky and disgusting. The battle had seemed to drag on forever and it was obvious in the way my muscles protested to any movement whatsoever. I tried to sit up and screaming pain ripped up my spine. I gritted my teeth and flatted my body once again against the pallet of cloth and furs. It would be within your best interest not to move, Solembum said.

You could have at least warned me, I bit back.

What's the use? You would have attempted to move anyway. It's bad enough that mortals don't bother to listen to my warnings, why should I give you the same courtesy? he drawled.

I'm only half mortal, Solembum, I said. And besides, Eragon listened to you.

He's a Rider, what do you expect? he said.

What is your point werecat? In case you've forgotten I'm Shur'tugal as well, I responded.

Well, forgive me your royal Shur'tugal, Solembum teased.

I'm not royal, I began. I could tell that someone else had entered the tent, more than likely it was Angela.

“I do hope Solembum told you not to move. But from the fresh blood coming from your wound, I can see that he did not,” she said.

“His warning came a little too late,” I gritted. Angela sighed and I felt her kneel next to me. The cooling rag she used on my lower back helped me relax a little more. While she put a salve of some sort across my skin she murmured words in the ancient language that reverberated across my being. When she finished she released a sigh and her weight sagged a bit more. I could tell that the magic had taken a lot out of her. “You can move now,” she told me. I did so and experienced no pain as I sat back on my heels. I felt around my tailbone with my fingers, feeling the smooth new skin of a scar. “You were badly burned,” she told me. “One of the barns caught on fire and you took it upon yourself to go in and save one of the children.”

“Huh,” I muttered.

“No one told you to be a hero,” she said.

“I don't even remember anything past killing the group of soldiers that had surrounded me,” I mused.

“Hmm, yes, that was quite a sight,” she said. She shot me a grin and got to her feet shakily and wobbled out of my tent. Solembum stared at me for a little bit his tail twitching. “What?” I demanded.

Nothing, he purred, before slinking after Angela. I got up ignoring the slight sting as the skin around my scar pulled. The camp was riddled with soldiers patching themselves up. Some eyes looked up to watch me as I moved past towards the main tent. My dragon rested outside of the tent, obviously a bit too large now to enter. Instead he stuck his scaly head inside, next to Saphira's and I entered, standing in front of our ebony-skinned leader. “My Lady,” I said bowing my head in respect.

“Isabella,” Nasuada sighed, she sounded exhausted. I raised my head and she looked more than tired. Her face was drawn and her eyes were drooped with exhaustion and her skin had a nasty pallor to it that made my forehead crinkle in worry. “Are you okay?” I asked her. She waved off my comment.

“I am fine,” she said, a little too dismissively. “What I want to know is are you well? You've been unconscious for the best part of two days.”

“I apologize my Lady-”

“Don't apologize you were injured after fighting valiantly for our cause,” Nasuada interrupted sharply. “And I won't hear otherwise.” my eyes met with Arya's for a brief two seconds. She understood, I don't know how, but she understood the black out that I experienced when I succumbed to the rage of battle. “Now, answer my question. Are you well?”

“Of course she's not,” Angela burst into the tent in a swirl of skirts, she smelled of tea and leafy herbs. “I think it'd be best to wait for at least another day. At dawn tomorrow after a lovely healing solute she'll be as good as new.”

“I feel fine,” I griped at the meddling herbalist. She arched one fine eyebrow at me.

“Don't give me that, I know it stings, even if I did just heal it,” she retorted. Even Angela looked pale from the drain of her earlier use of magic. I sighed. “I really am fine Angela,” I replied. The tent was filled with a pregnant pause and I noticed our dragons had put their heads down, my scaly friend had his eyes half-closed and his tongue lolling out. Yes, he was definitely bored. I suppressed a sigh and rubbed the back of my neck. Nasuada leaned forward on her elbows and buried her forehead in her palms. “Isabella, I'm ordering you to rest for the remainder of the day, that's an order,” she tacked on sharply when I opened my mouth to protest. I closed my jaw audibly and let my chin decline in a show of submissive acceptance. I turned and walked out of the tent past a triumphant Angela. Outside of the tent flap I ran straight into a wall of muscle and heat. “Oops,” he rumbled. He was very masculine by the sound of it, and considering that my head only reached just below his chest, he was very tall. Not as tall at a fully grown Kull, but tall enough to be a giant of a human being. I looked up and was met with a startled pair of blue eyes. His playful smile was quickly replaced with one of panic. “My Lady, Dragon Rider I-” he stuttered.

“It is alright, no harm done,” I said trying to reassure him with a smile but it came out as a grimace.

“My Lady are you sure you are alright, you're-”

“I am fine,” I said calmly. “Now if you'll excuse me I was sentenced to twenty-four hour house arrest.” and I walked away. The man I had ran into, had youthful features, that of one not very old. His hair had been dark and curly, unusual for those in the Empire. I vaguely recalled seeing his exhausted hulking form atop a weary looking horse the day I was scheduled to depart for the mission. He was most likely a new recruit for the army, his size would give him an advantage in strength but his bulk would certainly slow him down. And so I ended up sitting in my tent past sundown, feeling agitated. I fell asleep when the moon chose to make itself known and I had odd dreams, of speaking plants and Eragon dressed in seaweed...I will not be drinking another one of Angela's concoctions again even if makes my insides warm.

x-x-x

“Lady Isabella, this is my new Captain, Emmett,” Nasuada introduced.

“We've met,” I intoned flatly, flicking my gaze to his face. Nasuada raised her eyebrows and looked to her new Captain. “Oh?” she asked.

“Mind you it was only briefly my Lady,” he responded. “We ran into each other outside of the tent, she was going one way and I was going the other.” Nasuada let out a sigh and shrugged.

“Ah well, makes matters a bit simpler anyhow,” she muttered. “Lady Isabella, my new Lieutenant Major Jasper will be returning from his training stint further south in just a few more days. I expect nothing but courtesy considering he is the best military strategist the Varden has ever seen. If only we had found him sooner,” she said wistfully. Nasuada's maidservant mockingly elbowed her mistress and winked. “It helps the man is extremely good looking,” she giggled. Nasuada rolled her eyes.

“Hold your tongue,” she told her maidservant, though the scolding tone was lost on the smile that teased the corners of her lips and the redder quality to the leader's ebony cheeks. I just sighed and shrugged, eager to get this meeting over with. “If it's all the same my Lady I can go now?” I asked. Her dismissal was a wave of her hand and I retreated from the tent. I spotted Arya and quickly sped up my pace to greet my sister. “You heard of the new Lieutenant?” she asked.

“Lieutenant Major,” I corrected. “Two ranks, he must be important,” I deadpanned. Arya's mouth lifted in a smirk. “Extremely important, to be the best military strategist this resistance as seen.” My shoulders lifted and dropped in a shrug. “Not to mention, he's very good-looking by word of the women around camp.”

“What do I care about looks?” I snapped. “He's helping us get rid of the wretched tyrant that sits on that throne, that's all that matters.”

“I must say Isabella,” Arya commented. “You have been snippy lately. Is something wrong?”

“No,” I said. “I'm just tired. All of these formalities and such, not to mention being treated like I'm wrong for acknowledging my banishment from the royal family puts me on edge.” Arya's brow creased. “You weren't banished from the royal family,” she said. I laughed in her face at her naiveté, it wasn't like my sister to not be jaded especially over this particular subject. “My face is no longer on the line of succession. You are next in line, unless our Queen decides to exile you as well.”

“Isabella,” Arya warned. “You are crossing a dangerous line.”

“And what of it?” I retorted. “She crossed it then walked a league away from it and then proceeded to have a banquet.”

“That is an exaggeration,” Arya deadpanned.

“It is not,” I told her. “You're only in denial because you know it is the truth.”

“And you refuse to see that you are not alone,” Arya rebutted. I shook my head, a small smile on my face. “That's the thing dear sister, I've always been alone.”

But what about me?

I am not alone as long as I have you dear one, I responded. I felt my dragon hum from across the camp.

Chapter 13. The Major and His Army

Fírnen gnawed on the femur of the large animal that it had captured. How was that? I asked.

Ah, better than those annoying crows, he said flicking his silver irises upward. Fírnen was often seen luring the birds down from their endless circle above and more often than not snatching at least seven out of the air at a time then proceeding to swallow them feathers and all. I had witnesses on more than one occasion him regurgitating small bones and then gnawing them into dust before kicking it all over the place. I had gotten so irritated I had kicked him out of my tent. Maybe it was cruel, but he understood why I did it. Bird remains wasn't the most pleasant scent in the world and I didn't want to be the one sniffing it while I slept. I glanced at the sky, although the sky was so clogged with ash, birds of prey and the smoke that the sun was barely discernible behind the clouds of black. The Burning Plains was probably the worst place to hold an army, but the Varden held out just fine. “I have to leave you Fírnen. Nasuada expects me in the command tent,” I said.

Very well, he said continuing to gnaw happily. I will be there in a second. He swallowed loudly and I was glad that my back was to him this time. The weight on my right hip was familiar and I was particularly aware of it as I noticed new faces; these were probably the soldiers under the Lieutenant Major. I attracted more than several pairs of eyes and I ignored them all, staring straight ahead. I entered the tent and I bowed formally. “I am here my Lady, as you requested,” I said.

“Ah, Isabella, and right on time. You may rise. This is Lieutenant Major Jasper, Lieutenant Major this is Isabella Shur'tugal.” I met his eyes and he gave me a pleasant smile and a respectful bow.

“It is a pleasure to meet you Miss,” he said.

“Likewise,” I said flatly and facing Nasuada. “If that is all, my Lady will dismiss me?” I asked.

“Ah, not quite,” Nasuada said. “Isabella, I would like to talk to you about your dragon's feeding habits.”

“Fírnen,” I said. “His name is Fírnen.”

“Fírnen's feeding habits,” she corrected herself. “Our farmers are becoming concerned-”

“Why?” I said knowing that I probably shouldn't interrupt but I was becoming agitated with the petty needs of these insubordinates. Nasuada blinked at me.

“Why?” she repeated. “Isabella, your dragon is becoming larger and because he's male he'll be larger than Saphira if what you say is correct.”

“Yes...and the issues are?” I said.

“He'll have to go off Varden territory in order to hunt. I can't have him picking off the crops,” Nasuada said. I chuckled at this and shook my head.

“My Lady; first off, I can't dictate where he can and cannot hunt, I am his companion not his master; secondly, you are talking to the wrong person,” the tent grew tense and I saw that Eragon had something of a smile on his face. Nasuada gaped at me before composing her expression and standing straight. “Isabella I will not tolerate-”

My Lady, if I can, Fírnen intruded, placing his large scaly head inside the tent. Nasuada went still in shock as my dragon invaded her mental privacy, but if it was all the same to her she tried to invade his and almost forced me to clap irons on my dragon's will. I didn't expect her to understand because she was human; a desperate leader of a rebel brigade against a tyrannical king in a war that was bound to end in either stalemate or chaos. I was the only female Rider in the history of Shur'tugal, an exile from Du Weldenvarden and a half-breed not even welcome among my own people. Fírnen and Nasuada continued their discussion and by the time it ended Nasuada looked resigned but somewhat satisfied and a little nervous. She nodded, my cue for dismissal and I left the tent. Saphira landed not far from where I stood, startling a few of the new soldiers. I smiled at her and she winked back. Hello, dear one, she greeted.

Saphira, I nodded. How goes things?

Quite well from above, even though those those dag-blasted buzzards tried to tear off my hide, she snarled, snapping at the flock that circled overhead. I chuckled.

It seems no matter how much Fírnen decides to eat they multiply into even bigger numbers, I said.

Ah, Fírnen, Saphira hummed.

Greetings, his voice added itself into the conversation that occurred. I pressed my lips together to avoid laughing. Saphira obviously had a little crush on my dragon even though he was younger than her. He grew at a faster rate than she did, he had grown to nearly three quarters of her size in less than four months. In another few weeks he would be just as large as she was now if he kept his diet constant. I'll leave you two to it, I smirked and walked away, their banter fading from my mind as I erected walls around my consciousness. I looked towards the setting sun in the west as I walked and I collided with two bodies. In fact it was two soldiers, and I didn't like the looks of them just glancing upon them.“Excuse you,” growled one, the other just stared. My hand clenched into a fist.

“I apologize for my lapse in acknowledgement of my surroundings,” I said civilly. “but it doesn't mean that I'll tolerate any disrespect.” the soldier on the right smirked at me and then spotted the sword on my hip. More often than not I camouflaged my face in order to walk around camp unbothered. He pointed at the elaborate metalwork attached to my right hip. Obviously questioning my possession of such an elaborate work. Rhunön had made this sword years before I was born, years before she had made a binding vow to herself that she would never make another sword. Nobody knew why she had made the elaborate metalwork and then hid it away. Most said it was because it was the most beautiful sword she had ever made. I digressed because Eragon's Brisingr certainly gave it run for it's money. She had told me, in secret before I had left Du Weldenvarden for the longest time that she had been given a vision, saying that one day the salvation of Alagaësia would need a sword; and went on to describe it as she had made it in the next four nights after her dream. The blade was stained white, the large crystal set into the hilt was a little smaller than a chicken's egg, the hilt was silver and the entire blade was made of a metal that Rhunön wouldn't tell me the name of. My sword was sharp and never dulled, and Rhunön called it Hvitr Andlát. White Death. “How did you come across that sword?” the soldier asked me.

“It was given to me,” I said, raising my chin.

“Liar,” he said narrowing his eyes. “You stole it. A woman doesn't have the right to own a sword such as that. And because this is the case, I shall take it and find the rightful owner.” he gave me a smug grin and I smirked at him. “You'll return it in the end, because it belongs to me. It was made for me, I'm the only one who can use it.” this much was true. It was why Rhunön had wrapped it in cloth and hid it away for so long. “And I'll show you how it got it's name if you don't stand down,” I said, my tone becoming hostile. The soldier narrowed his eyes at me and the other put his hand on his comrade's shoulder. “James, no,” he whispered.

“Give me your sword,” James said. I pushed against the barriers of his mind and said, No. His face immediately went white but then his eyes flashed in anger. He went for his knife, crude and used for hunting. “You stay out of my head, sorceress,” he spat. I both heard and felt a presence behind me, the two soldiers looked up and their expressions were immediately schooled into those of respectful submissiveness. “Is there a problem?” the Lieutenant Major's voice rang, full of authority and strong.

“No, Lieutenant, just asking the Lady here about her sword,” James said.

“I suggest you keep your inquiries about a Rider's sword to yourself,” his commanding officer rumbled.

“So it's true then,” the silent soldier muttered. “about the female Rider.”

“I thought it had been a joke,” James said, not hiding his disdain as he scanned me up and down, but a wolfish hunger shown in his eyes and I felt violated just standing in his presence.

“No matter, back to your tents,” the Lieutenant barked. I turned to look at the man who had essentially saved me from being robbed and raped. “Thank you, James was beginning to get on my nerves.”

“Anything for a Rider,” he bowed. I inclined my head in return and gave him a smile before turning and walking away. I felt his eyes on me the entire time I walked away and I didn't turn around. I think you have an admirer, Fírnen teased.

I could say the same for you, I responded as I ducked inside the tent. I couldn't help but think of the soldiers as I moved to unbuckle my sword. Fírnen released a growl that reverberated across our mental connection. Those men are as good as dead, he said.

You do that and you'll get us kicked out of camp, I retorted. We have nowhere else to go, we should try to be civil with the members of the army.

Yes, be civil while they try to rape you and steal your sword, he sniffed. Those men should be dead.

It's no use Fírnen, I sighed. I'm still intact and so is my sword. But if they do end up coming near my tent you're welcome to their heads. Fírnen chuckled darkly, tickling me mentally.

With the deepest pleasure.

Two Weeks Later...

“Eragon will lead the breach,” Nasuada said. “Saphira and the elves will follow, then that leaves the rest of the army.”

“It might work,” Jörmundur muttered, scratching his cheek. “Jasper? What say you?”

“We'll need the element of surprise,” the Lieutenant Major. “And Saphira will need to make another entrance for us. They'll have the most guards at their gate, we'll have to strike from behind. Isabella and Fírnen will stay out of sight, they'll be given a signal and add more fight power. Isabella, we'll need you to take care of the archers,” Jasper addressed me. I nodded.

“I'll handle it,” I said.

“It sounds solid, do you think this will work?” Jörmundur asked. Jasper nodded.

“If it doesn't, then I'll eat my armor,” Jasper half-joked. Nasuada allowed a small smile. Arya and Eragon had remained silent the entire duration of the military meeting. What do you think? I directed at my dragon.

It isn't the most fantastic plan, he concluded. But I think that it'll be a success. I don't like this whole waiting in the wings business. No pun intended.

You're not yet old enough to breathe fire, I told him. That is most likely why they tell us to stay out of the fight.

I'm big enough to carry you, he argued.

Only because I'm small, I retorted. You have another month at least before you'd be able to carry a fully armored man the size of Eragon. He snorted, releasing two rings of smoke.

Unimportant. As long as I can carry you, I am content, he said. I placed a hand on his snout.

You'll be fine, I said. We will be fine.

The next chapter I'm going to post is incomplete and has not been edited or anything. I was tried finishing it but by that time, months had passed since my last update and I realized I had lost inspiration. But, nonetheless here it is:

Chapter 14. Dauthdaert

“I thought they were in possession of the elves,” I said. “How, in the name of our queen, did he find one?”

“That is the question I want answered,” Arya said darkly. “Albeit we shouldn't even be talking about it outside the command tent.”

“If what you say is true and he's truly found one, then the king is even more wretched than we thought,” I muttered.

“I'm more concerned with how he planned on using it. Saphira was injured by it and because of that it's even harder to heal,” she continued.

“I don't even want it within a thousand leagues of my dragon,” I said. “It's too dangerous and far too disturbing to think about the fact that a dauthdaert has been found and by a foul corrupt king no less!”

“Nasuada has already decided to keep it on hand,” Arya said. “She figures we can use it against Shruikan, though the poor creature has gone through enough already.”

“That 'poor creature' is nothing more than an instrument of war,” I said. “He should have been put out of his misery decades ago no thanks to that damned tyrant.”

“Eragon will prevail,” Arya said. “Keep faith sister.”

“A bit hard to do when we've just discovered the king had a dauthdaert.”

x-x-x

I bowed upon entering the tent, “You called, My Lady?” I said.

“Yes I did,” Nasuada stood. “Walk with me.” there wasn't much to look at walking along the camp besides tents, dirt and long stretches of grassland. “I understand that I may have done something to offend you by telling you to stay behind.”

“Be as it may, my lady, it's understandable you consider us young compared to Eragon and Saphira,” I said.

“It is not that,” Nasuada said. “It is the fact that he is young, that he cannot yet breathe fire nor carry you the distance that Saphira can carry Eragon and another dwarf or elf.”

“It is within your right to judge as such, after all we are in the midst of war,” I said. “But I must admit, it is unfair. We are still capable of fighting, of giving the masses a chance against a threat. After all, is this not our home too?”

“I wanted to apologize, I should have not let my doubts blind me to the fact you are a great swordsman as well as a Rider and I owe you more credit than what I have given you. Which is why I wanted to ask your advice.” I was silent as I waited. “King Orrin, what is it you think?”

“I don't think-”

“I'm asking you, besides, you are an ally, not under my command as Eragon is though I was surprised when you heeded my orders,” she said. “You have not sworn fealty as your brother has and yet, your actions suggest you have.”

“My Lady, King Orrin is a man, and with my experiences with the race of Men, they desire power no matter if he is a farmer or a wealthy noble. More power isn't out of the question and because you are a women, he sees a weakness that is not there. After all,” I nodded to the exposed scars on her forearms. “you are a liegelord of the wandering tribes and the leader who has led the Varden to victory all this time. I think he also fears you. You are not a weak woman who flees for the hills at the sight of a troop of soldiers, instead you are a battle-hardened general and because of that he fears not only you but the change you could bring about the people.”

“Huh,” she said. “I never thought of it in that context.”

Freaky Fruit

Ye Olde Dominance of Fate

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