Reversed Life (Eragon fanfic)

Chapter 5

It was only when his feet hit the ground that Gabranth finally took in the sight of the people awaiting him. He saw a tall, powerfully built man, his skin the color of ebony. The dome of his head was shaved bare, but a closely trimmed black beard covered his chin and upper lip. Strong features shadowed his face, and grave, intelligent eyes lurked under his brows. He bore himself with great dignity, exuding an intense, commanding air. He must be the leader of the Varden, Ajihad, and the man who had come close to killing Durza. It was a pity he hadn't succeeded in doing so. For that feat alone, Gabranth harbored small feelings of respect for the man. At his shoulder were two tall men, both bald and beardless, dressed in purple and gold robes. The Twins.

His gaze swept past them, setting eyes on a dwarf. Upon his head was a gold helm lined with rubies and diamonds. His visage was grim, weathered, and hewn, showing many years' experience. Beneath a craggy brow glinted deep-set eyes, flinty and piercing. Over his powerful chest rippled a shirt of mail. His white beard was tucked under his belt, and in his hands he held a mighty war hammer. He was the King of the dwarves, Hrothgar, no doubt. And by his furious expression, he must have gotten that message from the dwarf that Gabranth had assaulted.

Standing beside him was a younger dwarf, who wore chain mail with an axe hanging from his waist. His appearance was similar to that of his king, if not as grand and majestic. He continued looking down the line, stopping on the elf. Again, that strange feeling bloomed in his heart as he stared at her. Her brows were slanted, but unlike the others, her expression wasn't alarmed, seeming to be merely alerted. He forced his eyes onward past Murtagh who stood next to her, to Brom, and to the woman standing next to him. Instead of a dress, his mother wore clothes of padded leather, with black bracers upon her forearms and greaves upon her shins, a sword and dagger hanging from her waist. Her expression was one of pain as she stared at him. Standing behind her were his servants, anxiety marring their expressions.

Finally, he saw that not far off was a battalion of soldiers, humans and dwarves alike. Stepping forward again, he turned his helmed head in Ajihad's direction. "A warm welcome indeed."

Ajihad frowned, his alert expression never faltering as he spoke. "Why is it that you invade our halls, Gabranth? Is it for the dragon egg?"

He shook his head, surprising most of his audience. "No, I've come for another reason. If you would cooperate willingly with me, than I shall soon be gone from your presence."

The dwarf that stood beside Hrothgar angrily spat on the ground. Disgusting, Gabranth thought, why is it that all of the dwarves that I've met only know how to spit? "Do not insult us. You think you can threaten our race and burst into Farthen Dûr, and we'll just let you leave?"

Hrothgar raised his hand to silence the angry dwarf; he spoke in a guttural tone. "What is it that you seek within the Varden? We have nothing valuable to you besides our Riders." Riders?

Saphira's surprise flooded through him. The egg must have hatched! Pushing that thought aside, he focused himself. "I'm here for a person." He turned so that his body faced his mother, holding out his right hand. "Come back with me, mother. To Urû'baen."

Her expression seemed to become even more pained as she glanced between his outstretched hand and Brom and Murtagh. His half-brother, Gabranth noticed from the corners of his eyes, slid his hand to the hilt of Zar'roc. So he wasn't going to let go of their mother easily, thought Eragon. It wasn't his intention to hurt Murtagh but if he had to, then he would. "Don't do this," she whispered.

"I don't want to force you, mother," he said, a little more forcefully, as hurt spread through his veins like wildfire. She had refused him, just as he had hoped she wouldn't.