-"Inevitable. Ineffable. Indestructible. In the long run, it doesn't matter all that much, does it?"- A new Rider story from a dragon's POV.



Unsavory is truly the only way to explain the relationship between a Rider and her dragon.

This is true in so many ways. My Rider is truly more than everything to me, but in other ways she is the one thing I would simply love to eat. And vice versa, of course. The torrent of emotions (both mine and hers) and constant lack of privacy is just unsettling (disturbing) in so many ways.

I've no doubt that once she and His Majesty marry, the new queen will become even more insufferable than of the current date.

I pity her new subjects.


"I love weddings," the spectacularly-dressed and lavish new bride-to-be says. "They're so wonderful and sweet. I can only hope that mine will be half as extravagant."

I'm sure you do, I note dryly as she flings herself onto her bed. Her trademark golden dress has given way to lightly blue colored threads, a beautiful dress that even I can appreciate. Lace is heaped from the ends of her sleeves, making them at least seven inches longer than originally crafted. More circles her neckline softly, and the ends of her dress whilst her hair is pulled back into a long tail which plunges almost to her waist.

She claims she pinned her hair back in order not to show up the bride. I understand it is because she wishes to show off her new emerald earrings, gifted to her by the king himself.

Eyddr smiles, lost in thought of her own wedding. The event of the century, I've no doubt. The king's new bride.

"They're so wonderful," she repeats. "And such a useful tactic of society--it's how a princess becomes a queen, you know," she adds to me.

I know, I say. But you're no princess, Eyddr. Especially not his.

"Well, of course," she agrees. "That would be completely unsavory. But it's all in the mind, Armageddon, and in his mind I am perfect royalty just in store for his proposal."

I suppose you and him are bonded now, too?

"In heart and soul, Armageddon, in heart and soul." And she's gone again, dreaming of her initiation into the royal family. Just imagine if she bore him a son!

He'd probably strangle him in his sleep, I think spitefully, curling up in my extraordinarily comfortable but not quite perfect new nest. It's a simple down pillow, covered with a thin blanket of tightly-threaded silk and cotton. It's been enlarged specifically for my purpose. Galbatorix does not wish for any successors.

Don't be ridiculous, she thinks to me sleepily. His Majesty would be honored to have a son, and I would be honored to bear it. Just think... I would be unmovable from my position as queen... if I gave him a son. And you, Armageddon, you might even be a mother alongside me. She smiles blearily.

I don't think so, I say, miffed. The gestation period of dragons is much longer than a human's, Eyddr, I thought even you would know this. It takes approximately eleven months apiece for each egg, and you know a mother will not give her young leave of her body until at least the second egg is halfway done with its development.

Armageddon, hush. she mumbles. I'm so tir--a yawn catches her mid-sentence, and the remarkable stretch of her jaw muscles apparently wears her out, because the moment she relaxes she's dead asleep.

It ruffles me how she can so easily brush off my comments. I listen to her, do I not?

I hope she has nightmares about my teeth.


"Armageddon, HUSH! I'm so drop-dead exhausted it is not even amus--I thought I told you to quiet! Blast it, Armageddon, I'm your Rider, not your mother! SILENCE YOURSELF."

Eyddr almost literally roars her last two words (even though they completely maul her point, at their volume) like they're her dying wishes, and she effectively silences the entire dining hall.

She and I are caught in a ridiculously-overplayed staring contest of some sort; her eyes are wide and intense and I believe mine are slitted intimidatingly. I'm almost worried my eyes will get stuck like this when the contest is broken by a large yawn. It enters my mind that a yawn a notch more intense would completely unhinge her jaws.

It's the first time I've seen her that she is not anything less than perfect. Her hair is hurriedly brushed and blearily flung over her shoulder, violet half-moons hang under her eyes and the dress she's wearing has actual wrinkles. She looks almost... normal.

Bah, this is ridiculous. Eyddr will forever be anything but the norm--always the one with the beauty, attention, surprising wit and the Green Dragon by her side. Her hair might be unglossed and her eyes may be unlined by kohl but she is still the queen-in-pending for the entire land of Alagaesia and the most recent Rider.

"Blegh," she moans unintelligibly. For once uncaring of what her soon-to-be subjects think of her, she thumps her head on the table and rests there.

I follow her. It's been eighteen days since I've visited the Water Room (as Eyddr has dubbed it) and encountered Shurikan. Since then Eyddr has learned exactly fifty-seven words of the ancient language, and memorized thirty-five.

I have been introduced to the heart of hearts, which is an odd egg-like form that generates extraordinary power. I've grown quickly--five feet and three inches exactly since I've been exposed to these amazing power generators, and though Eyddr is vaguely curious as to what they are, I find myself quite content.

Galbatorix has had Eyddr's chambers' entrances enlarged simply for myself and my new size. I'm taller than my Rider now, and though I can no longer slink through the passageways like the hatchling I once was, I am enjoying the attention I receive. I suppose Eyddr has rubbed off on me.

His Majesty has seen my disapproval of him marrying my Eyddr, but he has chosen not to confront me about it. I find myself weakening in my dislike of him--quite the charming human, he is. I honestly look forward to the days when Eyddr holds power equal to his own, and we shall fly throughout the skies alongside each other, the issue of Shurikan aside.

But I shan't trouble myself with the black dragon right now. I have other responsibilities to attend to, not the least of which my unresponsive Rider. What would His Majesty think if he came across Eyddr right now--his wholly disgraceful and unglamorous bride.

Last night, at the wedding of Miss Practicia Brown to the new Duke Woodsworth, Galbatorix announced his intentions to his kingdom--he had chosen a bride, someone honorable and powerful and royal, someone to be the face of his country, and that bride was the Green Rider. Eyddr and himself danced the night away, which is why we returned at morning and are awake, two hours post. I napped upon the sidelines, snatching up roasted pig every now and then. Cooked meat has its perks, I suppose. Not the least of which the seasoning.

Eyddr, I prod her with my front claws, lightly. Eyddr. Wake up.

A slight groan is my response.

Come, Eyddr. What would your kingdom think, to find you napping in the dining hall? How would they feel? You know how they would feel? Ashamed. You are the face of your country, a beautiful, strong country which needs a beautiful and strong woman to represent it. His Majesty has chosen you, my Eyddr, and you are anything but beautiful and strong at the moment. Wake up.

She grumbles at me, but blinks unfocused eyes awake.


It is late afternoon by the time we steal back to the dining hall. At first, the plan was to replenish my Rider's beauty with face paint and kohl. Once we realized how useless this was--Eyddr's beauty might be skin deep, but it is her natural skin which supplies the beauty, not faux colors--we chose to take a short nap. I was to wake up my Rider in the course of two hours.

This plan failed, as I did when I fell deeply into slumber myself and did not return until Eyddr shook me awake. It was hours later and she was beautiful and sharp again, so at least it worked.

As we slink back downstairs, or best as we can being a furious woman and a clumsy dragon, we instantly acquire food and Eyddr so tactfully brings up the subject of my recent laziness.

"You're getting fat, Armageddon," she pats the new belly pudge as I sit beside her table, waiting patiently like the nice dragon I am. She tears into her bread. "Have you started hunting? I don't think you've ever left this castle. You've just been getting meat from the butchers in the kitchen, haven't you?" she accuses, though she knows the answers as well as I. "I know as soon as Galbatorix gives you another exposure to the heart of hearts you will shoot up again, but honestly, Armageddon, you've no pride."

I am your dragon, I think sourly. I think that is slightly more than impossible.

"You'll go hunting," she insists. "I'll see to it."

"She hasn't been hunting? No wonder she's so pudgy." A new snide voice joins our conversation. "Last I saw her she was fit young hatchling, afraid of even a magic show."

We look up, synchronized in our shock. It's a face both Eyddr and I are familiar with--me from experience and her from my memories.

Never one to lose face, Eyddr promptly sneers. "The prisoner, is it?" she snarls. "What--were you already hung or have you turned traitor?"

"I think I've already been hung, but you never know," he returns good-naturedly. He settles into the light, grimy, smelly, and thoroughly disgusting.

"Has His Majesty been letting you run around unleashed?" my Eyddr demands? "Blast it, no wonder he's kept you locked up. You're a disgrace."

"I suppose. But not quite as much as your fat dragon." Murtagh returns.


Yes. I am ending here.

Sorry for spelling mistakes. Sorry for the complete untruth about dragon's gestation period shizz and stuff. Made it up on the spot. Needed a comeback for Eyddr's comment.

Terribly sorry for my disappearance. I'm not sure what happened, but apparently the stuff about having the next chapter almost done was a complete lie. Or maybe I did have it done. I don't know, I don't remember. Plus I went kinda wild with the whole 'School's up again! Things to get yelled at for!' thing, which kinda set in late. Also, I got lazy. Like Armageddon, the fat dragon. I like saying that.

So, seems like our favorite fire-breather's getting a little called into the whole Galbatorix reign. She's got alotta character development stored up.

And ooh! Murtagh's ON THE SCENE.