reversed life

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Chapter 46
Today is Sunday! And I've decided to post this for anyone of you who have to return to school the following Monday. What a bummer! Anways, I couldn't wait to post this chapter, but the one after it I'm going to revise and edit for some time to make it seem right and nice.

It was an excruciating task to wake next morning but seeing as it was his cousin's wedding, he had an obligation to him to attend. And it would no doubt hearten his friends and families to see him out and about. Shaking off the ache in his bones, he made his way towards the clearing where the wedding was to take place. Murtagh had asked that he come to assist and get to know the people that he'd grown up with. He begrudgingly accepted the offer for his mother was observing him with such a keen eye it was impossible to deny it.

He and Saphira walked towards Murtagh and Thorn where they waited beside Elain, one of the women from Carvahall who was also with a child. His eyes searched for Blodhgarm and the other elves but he couldn't see them. It didn't bother him for he knew that they were hidden somewhere close in case Murtagh was in any danger.

"Looks like you've made it brother," Murtagh said, Eragon regarded him with a tired expression before sighing. What was he doing here? No one in this village welcomed him and it made it harder to try to manage a polite attitude with them. "We've to be put to work and cook."

"Cook?" He frowned, he didn't like cooking not on a regular basis though. "I'll call Rosalie and Desdemona, they can do it."

Murtagh shook his head, "No, we'll have to do it ourselves. Besides, those two are with mother. You wouldn't want to leave her unguarded would you?"

He stared at Murtagh for a moment with a frown but didn't refute him. He was right, he thought reluctantly. He gestured at Elain. She regarded Eragon with cautious eyes as she stood with both of her hands pressed into the small of her back trying to relieve the weight of her pregnancy and for a moment she reminded him so much of his mother. "It's not good for your condition to be up and about so much. You should rest more." Eragon caught himself and fell silent. How embarrassing…

She glanced at him partly amused her caution fading slightly, before she gestured towards a line of planks set on stumps that six women were using as a counter, "There are still twenty loaves of bread dough that have to be kneaded. Will you see to it, please?"

After a nudge by Saphira, Eragon followed Murtagh towards the women who promptly fell silent when they approached. Murtagh introduced him to the six however awkward the moment was. He tried to memorize all of their names and faces. There was Birgit, Felda, Isold, and three others whom he couldn't remember. Ignoring their conversations, Eragon was intent on making the bread to the best of his abilities. As he worked, he felt a memory tug at him.

His mother was roughly kneading a bowl of flour, often times pouring water into the bowl to keep the dough at a right state. Not too stick, not too dry. He barely reached her waist at the time and it was a challenge to even try to look over the counter. She was very beautiful, Eragon thought as he stared up at his mother. Her eyes were bright and a smile played on her lips as she continued to work.

"Mother," he tugged at her apron.

She paused glancing down at him, her brown eyes—his eyes—filled with warmth. "What is it, Eragon?"

He pointed at the tabletop, "Can I try?"

"Don't you want to play with the other children?"

He shook his head. He didn't care for the other children within in Uru'baen. He only cared for his mother. He never wanted to leave her. His mother glanced at him for a moment before bending down and lifting him up so he sat on the tabletop. Though the white flour stained his clothing, he didn't care. "Watch me do it, Eragon and then you can try."