To The Lands Beyond (An Eragon Fanfiction)

Coronation

Three months later, after many, many discussions set to determine whether or not a grey elf should be given the opportunity to rule their race, whether or not they should have to dig deeply within his memories or not, etc., Arya was finally ready to be done with these pointless, dragged on talks. 

The seasons had progressed quite amiably from hot summer to an effulgent, kind-hearted spring. Mushrooms began to show their faces amongst even the smallest of tree stumps, much to the delight of Fírnen, who spent many a day romping around the cheerful forest in search of tasty mushrooms to devour, much to the amazement of Arya. 

Time had come for Däralekk to be crowned King of the Elves underneath the shade of the Menoa tree

Däralekk provided a source of great awe and wonder for the elves of the city, undertaking what they considered great feats with comparative ease; such as drilling a hole halfway to the center of the earth and creating a giant mountain of dirt, clay and rock in the middle of a clearing to the entertainment of countless elves that had come along to watch. 

He did not spend all his time on such fruitless endeavors, however. His vast knowledge was put to use by the elves in various ways. He knew all the ins and outs of the Ancient Language, as it was his race that created it in the first place. 

He chose to withhold much of his knowledge, yet he was still able to teach them quite a bit that they had not the slightest clue about. 

Fírnen, Arya intoned in her dragon's mind. 

She was greeted by a series of images, mainly of clouds and the tops of Du Weldenvarden, with some green flashes at the bottom of her vision. 

You need to get down here and eat something; the coronation is at hand, and I do not wish to be late for this, she reprimanded him, sensing with satisfaction his assent. 

I am coming, don't you fear, he told her, sending her a dizzying image of treetops whizzing past in a dim green blur. 

The connection between them had already begun to strengthen considerably, and they could get a few miles from each other before they lost connection altogether. Arya felt the connection strengthening rapidly as he rocketed down from the sky, a bright green comet streaking through the cloudless sky that stopped it's descent a few feet above the ground with a whoosh of air from spread wings. 

He had grown quite a bit on mushrooms and small rodents he had caught in the forest in the few months since he had been born, and was now a considerable size, large enough for Arya to ride on for at least a day or two. His wings were put to use every morning and noon as he took to the skies in search of new adventure, seeking to increase his range of flight every few days in the hopes of finally being able to fly around the entire forest he called home. 

Arya set before him a dish of mushrooms, prepared meticulously by the elves' greatest cooks, because they felt it their inclined duty to a dragon, not to mention the second to last dragon in all of Alagaësia. 

Arya reset the flower in her hair in front of a mirror and patted Fírnen's head lightly before striding out of her room in full regal garb, her dragon by her side. 

The two of them quickly made their way down to the clearing around the Menoa Tree. The ceremony would be hopelessly boring for the both of them, especially for the outgoing and adventurous dragon. 

It seems that all of Du Weldenvarden has gathered here to see the coronation, Arya thought, immensely grateful that so many elves cared enough to attend. She knew that most of them were here to pay reverence to her mother, and if there was any time she felt more pride for her mother than any other, this was it. 

Many of the elves around her, mostly officials of the council, payed her gracious nods. 

Her mother had been loved by many, and many still would remember her forever for the things she had done. Arya had overcome the exhale of death and was now focusing on the new air she was taking in, embracing the change. 

I think he will be able to do many things a normal elf would be able to do, and he is more than qualified to take my position, she conveyed her thoughts to Fírnen, as he deserved to hear her inner thoughts more than any other being. He deserved to know her true feelings. 

They had decided early on that there would be no secrets kept between the two of them unless it was of utmost importance. Although he was a child yet in both human and elf standards, he could still outmatch an adult of both races both in mental fortitude and intelligence, as he had been gathering knowledge even while in the egg. 

As the proceedings got under way, something in the Menoa Tree stirred, and Arya was certain that Linnéa the elf would be watching over the proceedings. Whether or not she approved would yet to be seen; or maybe not at all, because there were not many ways she could express words other than to touch the minds of others, which she did very rarely. 

The funeral procession turned back swiftly as soon as they lay Islanzadí's body to rest next to the graves of her father and mother slightly to the right of the Menoa tree, the sea of elves parting before them silently. 

There were not many festivities included in the crowning of an elf, as the death of their former queen dampened the spirits of many of them who had known and loved her for most of their lives. 

I wish to be free of the constraints of this forest; I think I may be claustrophobic by the time this is done, Fírnen commented sarcastically. 

Arya laughed silently, retaining her silence throughout the last of the proceedings, solemn as they were. Däralekk was crowned King of the Elves and was given multiple phrases to repeat; his tone of voice definitely reflected the dispirited attitude given off from the crowd, mumbling past the lengthiest of phrases and faltering slightly as he strove to throw his voice to all corners of the crowd. 

When all was said and done, the elves had a new leader, and had mostly gotten over the death of their former Queen, though she will remain in the hearts of many for generations to come, as is the way of elves. 

But gradually, every memory must fade, and every well known memory must dissolve, leaving time only to remember the present and reminisce about the future to come. Come, we must fly far away so that you do not fall into a depression. You dwell on such matters far too much for your own good. It will do well for you to get away for a while, Fírnen suggested to Arya, lowering his wings for her to climb on his back. 

I think I shall take you up on that offer, as I never really have ridden on you before. Do you think you will be able to handle my weight? She asked him. 

He was certain that he would be able to, and she climbed atop his back as if he were a smaller Saphira. 

He growled slightly at this notion, huffing out a column of smoke that wafted the grass in front of him. 

Elves all around them got out of the way quickly as he braced himself for flight, powering his wings downwards and vaulting into the air with Arya clinging to his back grimly. 

His flight was a bit shaky at first, but he soon got the hang of it, and Arya was free to lift her hands from his neck and rest them on his back. She gazed around at the clouds and the treetops below. 

It was a brief moment of calm, so brief that she would cherish it for many months to come as her life was once again thrust into a turmoil. 

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