“Islanzadí Dröttning.” Arya replied formally to her mother’s statement, making the queen flinch as though she had been slapped.

“O my daughter, I have wronged you.” She repeated this time in the Ancient Language before switching back to common. “Ever since you disappeared, I’ve barely slept or eaten. I was haunted by your fate, and feared that I would never see you again. Banning you from my presence was the greatest mistake I have ever made…Can you forgive me?”

I had to admire the sheer fucking gall of the woman if nothing else.

Her daughter makes it home after disappearing for months, yet despite being ‘haunted by her fate’ Islanzadí seemed no worse for wear. She obviously didn’t send people to investigate if Arya was still even alive, yet the first thing she says when Arya returns is basically ‘I messed up but this was really hard on me, forgive me?’. And not even in her native language either.

Something must have shown on my face because Arya pinned me with a glare out of the corner of her eye and shook her head slightly.

I made an effort to calm down as Arya finally replied.

“For seventy years, I have lived and loved, fought and killed without ever speaking to you, my mother. Our lives are long, but even so, that is no small span.”

A tremor ran through Islanzadí as she drew herself upright and raised her chin. “I cannot undo the past, Arya, no matter how much I might desire to.”

“And I cannot forget what I endured.”

“Nor should you.” Islanzadí went to clasp her daughter’s hands. “Arya, I love you. You are my only family. Go if you must, but unless you wish to renounce me, I would be reconciled with you.”

Arya was around one hundred. That meant she had been estranged from her mother for practically three quarters of her life.

Her mother had all that time to mend bridges, instead she decided to do it now, in front of several high ranking elf lords, where Arya either forgave her or created a permanent rift not only with her mother but potentially with the lords surrounding them as well. It was a very political move and I felt my disdain for it pushing my self control.

Naturally there was only one answer Arya could give and she publicly forgave her mother to the smiles of everyone around us.

The white raven cackled and hopped on its stand. “And on the door was graven evermore, what now became the family lore, Let us never do but to adore!”

“Hush Blagden, keep your doggerel to yourself.” Islanzadí said as she released Arya and turned to the rest of us. “You must excuse me for being discourteous and ignoring you, our most important guests.”

Eragon surprised everyone there by performing the traditional greeting in the Ancient Language followed by Saphira as they introduced themselves.

“You carry a powerful name,” Islanzadí said softly, “one we rarely bestow upon our children… Welcome to Ellesméra, Eragon Shadeslayer. We have waited long for you.” She moved on to Orik. “And your name, dwarf?”

“Orik of the Durgrimst Ingeitum, Majesty.” the dwarf said gruffly, if respectfully.

Then it was my turn. “And yours, human?”

“Alexandria Cross, though I’ve apparently picked up Lightbringer as a title.” I stated blandly with what only the most generous would call a nod in acknowledgement. Islanzadí’s eyes widened at the blatant lack of deference, Arya sighed a little, and the seated elves around us shifted angrily.

Hey, this was already me being behaved!

The queen chose not to make an issue of it though, at least for now, and returned to her throne.

“I assume by your presence here, Eragon, so soon after Saphira’s egg was captured, and the ring on your hand and the sword on your hip, that Brom is dead and that your training with him was incomplete. I wish to hear your full story, including how Brom fell and how you came to meet my daughter, or how she met you, as it may be. Then I will hear of your mission here, dwarf, and your adventures, Arya, since your ambush in Du Weldenvarden, and finally the reason for your presence, human.”

Making me go last out of spite? I don’t think the queen liked me. I fully reciprocated that attitude.

“Well, I guess it all started when I was hunting in the Spine, a mountain range near where I grew up…” Eragon began recounting his story. He was clearly making an effort to keep to more relevant things, such as the trail of events that led to him leaving his village with Brom, but he was also making some effort to skip over details the elves might find distasteful, such as the abuse Arya was subjected to.

I saw some glances between the assembled elves when Eragon explained the cause and lingering effect of his back injury.

Eragon’s account ended with him presenting a sealed scroll from Nasuada to the queen that prompted Islanzadí to comment on how foolish she had acted.

Literally the only thing stopping me from saying something was Arya pinning me with a glare and I had to sheepishly look away when I realized I had almost reflexively commented anyway.

When the young rider asked about his training Islanzadí could only assure him that he would be trained…and then told him that as long as he remained affected by his curse he would only be useful as a figurehead and a shadow of the hope they had waited for.

Bitch.

Islanzadí addressed Orik next, but there wasn’t much to say since his only request was for the elves to provide their support against Galbatorix again and that had been promised during Eragon’s conversation.

Then it was Arya’s turn.

I…was not ready for her story.

I don’t think anyone was.

Arya recounted months of brutal tourture in the same detached monotone of someone reading off a list. And while everyone around her remained silent, I saw hands tightening and faces hardening at the descriptions she gave. At this point I was sure the elves would demand retribution even if Islanzadí hadn’t already recommitted them to the war. It was even enough to crack the political mask the queen was using as she fully understood exactly what she had condemned her daughter to by cutting all contact from the world.

One of the elf lords stood from his seat and declared them all in her debt for managing to resist long enough to deny Durza, and by extension Galbatorix, the knowledge and location of the elven cities. To which Arya simply thanked him in return.

Then it was my turn.

“We have spoken of evil things for too long and our guests are tired.” Islanzadí said and turned to me. “We have heard from the others, but what brings you here to our halls?”

Part of me still wanted to poke at all the failings of the queen. How she nearly doomed the continent to the rule of a mad tyrant because she decided to hide in the trees. How she clearly didn’t love her daughter as much as she pretended to simply assume her dead and not investigate. How she… there were a lot of things I wanted to mock her for, okay?

But after listening to Arya…I simply didn’t have the motivation anymore.

So instead of any of that I simply said, “I’m one of the healers that saved Eragon’s life after the battle with Durza. I’m here to make sure his curse doesn’t cause any additional problems and even remove it with time.”

“I’m sure our own healers will be interested in speaking with you about his care. Perhaps they would even be willing to instruct you if they are feeling charitable.” Islanzadí casually insulted me. “And while we may discuss things later I will not have this occasion marred by lingering on past injuries.” She smiled, “My daughter has returned, a dragon and her Rider have appeared, and I will see us celebrate in the proper fashion!”

Islanzadí clapped her hands and the area was covered in flowers before everyone whisked away to prepare for a feast.

-o-

The speed at which everything was prepared showed that even if we were trying to ‘sneak’ into meeting Islanzadí first, the rest of the elves noticed us on the way in and made preparations. We were led back out into the forest where several long tables were set up while elves continued to run around delivering fresh bread, vegetable dishes, and fruit. All very fancy and delicious, but the lack of meat was noticeable.

Something I was surely going to miss in a few days.

Rather expectedly, the main attraction of the feast was Eragon and Saphira. Practically everyone wanted to speak to them, though it seemed Saphira was the more popular of the two. I watched on for a little bit since no one was all that interested in speaking to either me or Orik beyond some polite greetings but I eventually lost interest and started interrogating one of the servers on how everything was prepared when it became clear nothing beyond some bland conversation was going to happen here.

When Islanzadí decided the feast was at an end, everyone hurried to finish eating and began to disperse. Initially I was going to follow along after Eragon and Arya but the elf that I assumed was going to be my guide was rather insistent I follow him instead.

“Du Weldenvarden is a place unlike any you have been before, human.” He lectured me as he led me through the forest. “Take care to be respectful while you are here, there are those who do not want your presence here and would be grateful for the excuse to remind you of your place.”

“Meh, let them try. Might do them good to be reminded the sun doesn’t shine out their asses.” I realized I might have had too much to drink at the feast. Whatever it was the elves were serving was rather strong…

My guide paused.

“And you think yourself capable of instructing them? Many have already heard of your arrogance when meeting Islanzadí-elda. Someone so ignorant in even meeting someone of her station would be a poor teacher of respect.”

I was tipsy enough that the warning tone in his voice failed to register. “Hardly ignorant, I just think she’s a terrible queen. Wasn’t going to respect her after her little performance.”

There were some gasps from the other elves on the path that overheard my comment. Clearly they never thought anyone would badmouth Islanzadí in public.

“You are obviously lacking your wits, so I will give you one chance to apologize, human.” My guide hissed, hand grasping where a sword should be but wasn’t because of the feast.

“Or what?”

“Or I will teach you respect. In a duel.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault she decided to be a shit mom on top of being a bad queen. I’m not goin’ to apologize for nothin’.” I said stubbornly through the haze of alcohol.

If my previous comment was gasp worthy, this one was enough to get everyone whispering to each other like bees.

“Fine then!” my guide snapped. “If you insist on spitting on our hospitality then you shall reap the consequences. I will give you a lesson of respect tomorrow at the sun’s highest point, unless you are as craven as you are disrespectful?”

A duel? Fine by me! I might even get a workout too!

The elf didn’t seem to appreciate the dig when I repeated it out loud but he informed me that someone would stop by to show me to the field the fight would take place before stalking off into the trees.

Another elf appeared to finish escorting me to my room and this time made no effort to communicate with me.

As I laid down to sleep the last thing I thought was that while I kept my promise to Arya about not getting involved with the games Islanzadí pulled…I was still going to cause a scene that was no doubt going to cause my friend no end of headaches…