Daughter of a Tyrant, Sister of a Traitor: Chapter One

A/N: FINALLY!! The next chapter! So sorry its been so long, but school got me. So please don't hurt me!! (and me so sorry its short, computer crashed in the midde of me writing it)

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon, Eldest or anything else in the Inheritance Cycle.

The sun beat down on the little party traveling on the main road to Uru’baen. The spires of the capital could just be seen in the distance.

One of the guards rode up to the leader of the party. “My Lady, the king has provided you with a royal escort into the capital. They are waiting over the next rise.’ The man hesitated. “I was also told to inform you that the king has some important nobles waiting with him. He wants you to dress appropriately.”

Maria scowled. Leave it to that old tyrant to remember the last time he came to her grant. She had been riding Storm, and had just gotten back when he and Shrukien landed in the main courtyard. She was wearing one of her Guardsman’s uniforms, and really hadn’t looked very much like a noblewoman. The king, who on some occasions, treated Maria like his own daughter, had laughed and presented her with a Court gown the next day. She hated it. It was black, with sliver trimmings and pearls sewn all over it. Unfortunately, her housekeeper had made her bring it.

“Stop then, and let me put that blasted gown on. Might as well get used to it. Have to wear one every day, now that the king has summoned me to court.”

An hour later, an enormous show of force entered Uru’baen. Maria rode through the black gates on her warhorse, Storm, wearing the gown that the king had given her. Behind her marched rank after rank of soldiers—the escort that the king had so generously supplied. As they marched through the city, Maria couldn’t help but notice the poor people lining the road. They were all so sad-looking, and they had no hope. How could they, living right under Galbatorix’s nose? They never had a chance.

Finally, the procession made it to the castle gates. Once silver, with every gemstone in the world on it, now, the gates were flat black iron. Not the best looking things in the world, but they did their job. The enormous doors swung inward, and the procession continued to the castle’s main doors.

The king was waiting, with Shrukein on his right side. Galbatorix was dressed in his normal black, wearing a golden crown and chest chain to make him seem more regal, she guessed. It honestly didn’t work. He still looked like he should be in a crypt somewhere. On the king’s left side . . . she felt her heart turn to ice. Why did he have to be here?

Murtagh and Thorn, to their credit, looked like they wanted to be somewhere else. Maria couldn’t blame them for that. He was dressed simply, in a red tunic and white shirt, with plain black pants. On his side. . . Maria hissed. Zar’roc. Hadn’t that sword caused enough problems?!

By this point, Maria had dismounted, and was walking slowly up the steps to where the king and his Rider were waiting.

She bowed. “Your Majesty.” The words made her want to puke.

The ancient tyrant smiled. “Lady Maria. Thank you for accepting my invitation to join me in Uru’baen.”

“The pleasure is all mine, my king.” They both knew that she’d had no choice. When the king told you to be somewhere, you went. End of Discussion.

He smiled. Galbatorix was probably thinking the same thing that she was.

“The servants will show you where your quarters are. After you are settled, meet us in the throne room.’ He turned to his Rider, who hadn’t said one word the entire time. “Come, Murtagh.”

And with that, he left, dragons and Rider trailing behind. Maria stared after them, until a servant timidly approached her.

“Your Ladyship? If you will follow me, I will show you where your quarters are. You can freshen up there before going to meet the king.”

She turned to face the old man. He reminded her of the old gardener that used to work at Wyrdahearth. Maria smiled. “Of course, my dear fellow. Lead the way.”

And with that, Maria stepped into the king’s castle, away from the light, and into the darkness.

Eragon was finally ready. Roran had been ready the night after the Battle of the Burning Plains. Only now, a week after the battle, could they finally go to Helgrind to rescue Katrina and avenge Garrow’s death. It had taken a week for the Varden to march back to Surda’s capital, after their spies informed them that the Empire’s army was retreating back to Gil’ead.

It was now sunset, and he, Saphira, and Roran were at the edge of Aberon, waiting on Nasuada and Arya to come and “officially” say goodbye. Honestly, none of the five meeting there knew when they would see each other again, and so, this was more of a private goodbye, filled with both mourning and hope.

Nasuada came up and hugged him. “Come back safely, won’t you? We need you.”

Eragon smiled. “There’s nothing to worry about. We’ll be back before you know it. Just wait and see.”

Roran just nodded. He was too impatient to say much.

Arya nodded to them both. “Un du evarínya ono varda,Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Bjartskular. Come back soon. The Empire will not wait forever.”

Eragon just nodded. “We will.”

Nasuada smiled at all of them. “Go on, then, before I have to recruit any of you for something.”

“That’s what I’ve been waiting to hear, so come on, before she changes her mind!”

They all laughed at Roran, and Saphira gently nudged Eragon up onto the saddle. Then let us go.

As the two women watched them soar into the setting sun, Nasuada sighed.

“I sure hope they know what they’re doing.”

Arya looked at her. “I do, too.”

So, please read and review, and I will try to get the next chapter out there soon!

Oh, and "Un du evarinya ono varda" means "May the stars watch over you," for anyone who was wondering.