Dagny: An Inheritance Cycle Fanfiction.

2. Changing Winds

2. Changing Winds.

Dagny's ears and fingers were numbed by the freezing wind Sverrir's flight evoked. She curled her hands into fists, telling herself to invest in a pair of gloves and a hat at the earliest opportunity. She'd forgotten how cold it was in Alagaesia, far colder even than Vera-trür in the depths of winter. Though she had been born in this land, and had spent her childhood here, most of her life had been spent across the sea. All Sverrir had seen of his native land was Du Weldenvarden, during the brief years they had trained with the elves. They were both unaccustomed to the low temperatures, but he adapted infinitely better than she did.

Dagny narrowed her eyes against the driving wind and made out the familiar figures of a graceful white dragon and her Rider. Láine drifted in lazy circles lower and lower over Leona Lake.

The uncanny, musical mind of an elf touched both her thoughts and Sverrir's. Recognising the familiar presence, though it had been years since she'd last felt it, Dagny let the blocks around her mind slip. Arne's mental 'voice' sounded in her head.

Land on the lakeshore, far enough from the camp that we will not be interrupted. We must speak with you.

Láine dived for the ground almost before he finished speaking, and Sverrir followed. Arne severed the link before Dagny could respond and she was left feeling somehow wrong-footed.

Was he too curt, do you think? Too terse? She asked Sverrir. She caught a flash of exasperation from him before he could conceal it.

Láine and Sverrir are our commanders, Dagny. He answered shortly. They're here as representatives of Eragon, not our friends.

He paused before adding, in a snippy tone: You always overanalyse everything he does.

Don't be jealous.

He snorted, as he landed across from Láine on the lakeshore. I'm not jealous. I'm embarrassed on your behalf.

Láine was as beautiful as Dagny remembered. Her white scales glimmered like fresh-fallen snow and her violet eyes shone eerily. She crouched by the shore, her gaze fixed intently on them. Her Rider stood beside her, turned away from them, looking towards the lake. The pair were a study in contrasts: a majestic, gigantic white dragon and a slender, black-clad elf nearly lost in her shadow.

Sverrir dipped his head in greeting and Láine returned the gesture, her purple eyes inscrutable. Dagny slid from the saddle fluidly, touching two fingers to her lips as Arne turned to face her. He had hardly changed in the four years since he had left Vera-trür - a bonus of immortality, she supposed. He had the ageless appearance of an elf. His face was just as regally handsome as she remembered, his gold-flecked brown eyes just as warm. He now wore his raven hair tightly braided, rather than loose. It had suited him better before, she thought. Now he looked more severe, colder.

"May good fortune rule over you," she said in the ancient language, knowing she was supposed to speak first.

"May peace live in your heart," he returned briskly, clearly in no mood to squander words. "We received word from Eragon that he had sent you."

Dagny nodded. "Alanna and Imontar accompanied us as far as Dauth but no further. There was severe rioting in the city, and they felt their presence was needed."

Dagny had been uneasy with the decision. The four of them had been sent to aid Prince Tornac with the rebellion at Belatona, but Alanna had been horrified by what she saw in Surda and had refused to leave the city. She was a gifted healer, extraordinarily compassionate - and naturally disposed towards rule-breaking. It was one of the reasons she and Dagny got along so well. But she was also incredibly stubborn and Dagny and Sverrir had been unable to convince her to leave Dauth. Imontar, naturally, wasn't going to leave her behind and since someone needed to go help Prince Tornac, Sverrir and Dagny went on alone.