Tornac of the Road - Eragon Fanfic

Chapter One: Intrusion

Nasuada was pretty sure she wouldn't have made it as an immortal.

For one thing, her mind was entirely too full of all the information and memories she had gathered during her short, mortal life so far, and she couldn't imagine stuffing another few hundred years worth into the already-cramped quarters of her brain. And for another, she was exhausted by queenship after only two years; she couldn't imagine how the Tyrant King Galbatorix could possibly have wanted to be ruler for all of eternity, or how he hadn't thrown in the towel after the first hundred years.

Today was the same as all the other days-busy, frantic, and high-stakes-with every problem of every person in every little village of the kingdom demanding her attention. It was nothing compared to her time leading the Varden, which by comparison looked like a scrappy band of vagrants, easily coordinated with the help of a few trusted friends.

Queenship was that times a hundred times a thousand, and Nasuada had to constantly remind herself that each person's problem really was, to them, just as important as the next. When she received complaints that she found ridiculous, she had to take a moment and hide a mad bark of laughter, before approaching the problem as though it were her own, as though she felt as strongly about the matter as whichever subject was complaining at the time. Some days, hiding the madness was harder than others.

However, she did have a cadre of reliable buffers to the onslaught of requests she received-Jormundur, Triana, and Farrica just to start with, and they could often keep the most ridiculous of requests from assaulting her ears.

Elva was also a help-after having returned from an unexpected and prolonged absence-Nasuada was embarrassed to admit that she'd missed the unnerving child, who at this point appeared more like a young woman, though she was no older than five.

When Elva had reappeared in the castle hallways one day several long months after she'd inexplicably vanished, Nasuada had tried to hold onto her suspicion and resentment, especially when the girl refused to explain anything of her disappearance, but once Elva had resumed her role of protector and advisor, and Nasuada felt the weight of worry lifted from her shoulders, she had been forced to let go of her annoyance and accept the child back into the castle gratefully.

Elva knew this, of course-she always knew what made Nasuada uncomfortable-but this meant she also knew how to ease that comfort-and whatever journey she had been on for those few months had seemed to make her more inclined to exercise that ability.

The witch-child had returned softer, calmer, more helpful and less spiteful, though she still had her moments of darkness. Nasuada decided not to complain, and refused to listen to Jormundur's well-intentioned but misguided warnings not to trust the "little girl", as he called her.

Elva explained to Nasuada that much of the discomfort and worry she felt from Jormundur stemmed from his deep care of-and therefore deep worry for-Nasuada, whose father he had served just as faithfully. So Nasuada forgave Jormundur his short-comings, knowing that in him, unlike Triana and many of the other courtiers, she had not only a trusted advisor, but a dear friend.

Now, as the sun had begun to set and her daily duties were wrapping up-save only a dinner she was scheduled to attend at the home of one of her Lords-Nasuada was hoping she might end the day without a major catastrophe.

She was with Farica and Elva in one of the rooms in the castle reserved for her private use-a room she used to get ready in between various events, when a change of clothes or a brief rest was needed. The room had its own name, but she couldn't remember it. All the rooms in the castle seemed to have their own names, and that was a piece of information that could find no place to sit in the confines of her mind.