Dagny: An Inheritance Cycle Fanfiction.

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Dagny gripped Brigitta's wrist like a lifeline. The crowds were too thick to breathe. Her eager little sister slipped through the masses of people like a fish, drawing closer and closer to the front. Brigitta could, by virtue of her height, squirm unnoticed through gaps in the crowd but Dagny had received more than a few dirty looks from people she pushed past.

Brigitta pulled her hand from Dagny's grasp, worming between the puffed skirts of two wealthy ladies. Panic seized her.

"Bree! Brigitta, wait!" She stretched, trying to see over the tall, elaborate hairstyle of the noblewoman in front of her.

"It's alright, I can see her." Rowan, standing beside her, was tall enough to see over the heads of the crowd. "She's right up the front. She knows how to take care of herself, that one."

He chuckled lightly. The familiar sound was comforting, setting her at ease.

Dagny shook her head in half-feigned exasperation. "If only she did. She only knows how to get herself in trouble."

Rowan squeezed her shoulder. "She'll be fine. Risthart and his ilk are on their best behaviour today, for the sake of our exotic guests."

His words were heavy with cynicism, but she knew better than to reply. Once you got Rowan started on the privilege of the upper classes, the bastion of injustice that was Teirm, he was likely to start ranting and raving about rebellions and revolutions. Treasonous words.

One of the ladies blocking her path to Brigitta moved aside, to speak to some lord, and Dagny darted through the gap, pushing her way through densely packed people until she reached her sister's side. Brigitta was nearly bouncing on the spot with anticipation. A wide grin split her face and her eyes were wild with excitement.

"Look, Dagny." She hissed. "Look!"

Dagny followed the line of her pointing finger to three elves, clustered a little distance from the throng of people, two silver-haired females and one raven-haired male. They were beautiful, noble, solemn-faced, everything elves were purported to be. Their unreadable cat-eyes moved impassively over the humans, from bumbling Lord Risthart and his aides to the slack-jawed children gaping at the silken pouches they all clutched.

"Three eggs." There was no mistaking the wistfulness in Brigitta's voice. Dagny tugged Brigitta's braid playfully.

"Are you going to line up? See if you're chosen?"

"Of course!"

Dagny grinned at the rapid-fire response. "You know you'd have to leave if you were a Dragon Rider, Bree? You'd have to go away with the elves." She teased.

She was unprepared for the seriousness of Brigitta's response. "I'd be gone in a heartbeat. What am I leaving? Starving in a miserable hovel with a crackpot old crone?"

Bree's words cut to the quick, and she took an involuntary step back, letting Brigitta's plait fall from her hands. Bree seemed to realise she'd said something wrong and her cheeks coloured.

"I'm sorry, Dagny - "

Dagny waved her off, forcing herself to sound lighthearted. "I was only teasing, Bree."

The younger girl still looked guilty. "I'd miss you, Dagny. I really would."

"Don't worry about it. Go, quickly, get a spot in line."

The dragon eggs still rested in their pouches, but three pedestals had been erected in the centre of the square and people were already gathering around them, forming disorganised lines. Brigitta gave her a bright, fleeting smile and raced off to fight her way to the head of the queue.