Chapter 16

Within a grand feasting hall at the head of a long table that can easily seat over a hundred people sits the dwarven king Hrothgar. His long white beard is a heavy contrast to the golden crown on his head fitted with rubies and diamonds. His powerful stature is emphasized by the chainmail he always wears barely hiding the rippling muscles of a veteran warrior underneath. By his side is the Warhammer Volund, a massive weapon that was forged by the first dwarf king millennia ago, which has been wielded by each and every dwarf king to have ever existed. 

While they wait for the guest of honor to arrive, the many dwarves of Durgrimst Ingeitum laugh and shout with impunity, their boisterous voices echoing throughout the room. The guards standing watch at the entrance to the dining hall uphold their duty, their will absolute even if their hearts yearn for a mug of ale. 

Seeing someone walking down the corridor towards them, the grip on their spears tighten for a moment before relaxing as they recognize the figures as Orik and Eragon. The guards place their right hands over their hearts as a formal greeting to the duo before ushering them into the dining hall. Once they enter, the noise in the room gradually dies down and Hrothgar stands up with a golden goblet in his hand. 

"Welcome, Eragon Bromsson, Slayer of Shades and Argetlam. Come… Sit by me so that the feast may begin!"

Eragon and Orik walk over to the head of the table and sit right next to Hrothgar on his right side. A server quickly fills two goblets with mead and places them on the table in front of them. On the table in front of Eragon is a large deer carcass that had been skinned, deboned, and cooked to absolute perfection. The meat has a brown, glazed finish and the aroma is intoxicating. Once everyone is situated and has quieted down, Hrothgar holds his goblet high.

"Hwatum il skilfz gerdumn! (listen to my words!) A toast! To all our fallen comrades in this war against the empire. Their sacrifices were not in vain. We now have true hope of ending Galbatorix and reclaiming the freedom we have fought for. We now have a dragon rider on our side that with training and the support of Durgrimst Ingeitum shall slay the mad king and end his tyranny. Guntera Aruna! (Guntera Bless!)."

*GUNTERA ARUNA!!!* The dwarves shout in unison.

Hrothgar clears his throat before cutting off a small bit of meat and stabbing it with his fork. He then takes a bite, savoring the exquisite morsel for a few moments before swallowing. After waiting for a few moments, Hrothgar looks out towards the rest of the dwarves. 

"Let the feast begin!!!" 

Like starving hyenas, the dwarves start to devour the food in front of them at a rapid pace. Servers are running back and forth carrying pints of mead to anyone that is even close to having their cup run dry. With a nod from Orik, Eragon digs in as well. He carves off a large hunk of deer meat and marvels at its texture. Placing a piece of the moist flesh in his mouth, an explosion of flavor coats his tongue, leaving him starstruck. Within minutes his stomach is bulging out and a satisfied huff escapes his lips. He takes a sip of the mead and looks towards Hrothgar. 

"Thank you for your hospitality, King Hrothgar. This meal is the best I have had in my life and I shan't forget it anytime soon." 

Hrothgar looks toward him with a satisfied look on his face as well. "Please, while you are here you may simply call me, Hrothgar. I wasn't lying when I said that you are the greatest hope we have against Galbatorix. We dwarves have been hiding in our mountains for far too long. In a few years, maybe a decade, We will march on Uru'baen and end his life or all of Alagaesia will fall to his power. Anything that you need that I have the power to give is at your disposal Eragon, should you require it. I do feel some guilt for robbing you of your adolescent years but your fate is to stand against him or die trying." 

Eragon looks down in contemplation. "Fate huh?" He says in a low whisper. He looks back up towards Hrothgar. "I will do everything that I can to be strong enough when the time comes. I will say that I have been forging my own equipment throughout my travels and wish to continue doing so. When I am not busy training I would like to learn from one of your blacksmiths." 

Hrothgar strokes his beard. "That can be arranged… I can understand your desire to forge your own weapons and armor. In the face of a destiny that you cannot fight against, you seek to create the tools necessary to achieve your goal. Orik… Have one of our smiths guide young Eragon in the intricacies of forging." 

"Of course Grimstnzborith." (Ruler of the Dwarves; literally 'hall chief').

Hrothgar nods with a satisfactory smile on his face. "Good. Now drink up young Eragon!" 

Eragon looks down at his goblet with a grimace. He didn't want to get too drunk as he wants to spend every waking moment while he is safe in the dwarven capital to get stronger. He takes sips of his mead for the next half hour before he feels a strange burning sensation on his chest. Looking down, Eragon sees the anti-scrying necklace he made is currently active, draining a small amount of his mana.

"I haven't even been here more than a day and someone finally tries to use the scrying spell on me." Eragon says in his head. "If I had to guess, the twins must have reported to Galbatorix about my arrival already, making Galbatorix the likeliest culprit… There is nothing I can do about this but hope he gets bored and cancels the spell." 

Eragon drinks his mead in silence, the dwarves laughing and drinking without a care in the world. Whoever is scrying him continues to do so for the next ten minutes before they finally cancel the spell. Eragon breathes a sigh of relief then asks Orik to lead him to the Dragonhold. (found the name of the dragon roost 🙂). Orik downs his entire goblet of mead before standing up and guiding him to the main hall once more.

Off to the side in the main hall, a large spiral staircase is built into the wall that leads all the way up to the Dragonhold nicknamed the endless staircase. Eragon bids Orik a farewell and starts to walk up the stairs at a leisurely pace, taking him over half an hour before he is walking on the top side of Isidar Mithrim. There he finds Saphira curled up and asleep. With a smile, Eragon walks over and gently lifts up her wing and slides into place next to her. Even while she is asleep, she still seems to respond to his presence and drapes her wing over top of him, sealing him in. Eragon rolls up his jacket and uses it as a pillow and promptly falls asleep in Saphira's warm embrace. 

…

The next two weeks go by in a blur for Eragon. Between magic and sword lessons with Brom, smithing lessons with various dwarves, and working on making his own weapons and armor, he has had little time to spend with Saphira. She has taken to hunting the various dangerous animals of the Beor Mountains to keep her skills in top shape. She still hasn't been able to breath fire but it could happen any day now. Neither of them have felt lonely as they always keep in contact with their mind link. 

To make up for not being with her as much as he wants to, Eragon made her a new saddle that can be attached or removed whenever she wants with a simple command growl. Setting the password to a growl still makes Eragon chuckle from time to time. 

Speaking of things Eragon has forged, he finished his sword a week ago and has started working on a set of armor for himself. The sword is made of L6 bainite steel, a steel alloy that is by far the strongest metal for making cutting implements in the 21st century. Realizing that he prefers a smaller sword than the original Eragon, he made it just slightly bigger than a short sword and added a crossguard for catching an enemy's blade and twisting it out of their hands. The blade itself is smooth and sleek with a pointed end so that he can hack, slash, or stab with impunity. Fueling the enchantments is a series of sapphire gems that are inset into the blade, the size of each gem is smaller as it reaches closer to the tip.

The enchantments on his blade this time around are slightly different. He can't add the blade lengthening spell to the sword because it is made of steel. The reason it worked with the stone sword is that he compressed an entire boulder into the size of a normal sword so he could decompress the stone from the tip to extend the blade and vice versa. This time Eragon goes for more versatile enchantments on top of the standard durability enhancement. 

One of his favorites is temperature control, allowing him to make the blade extremely hot or cold whenever he wants. Then there is probably the most important enchantment he placed on it, barrier destruction. The premise is that when the sword strikes a barrier, the enchantment would drain an obscene amount of mana from the barrier into the gems, fueling the other enchantments in the process. If they don't disable their barrier in time, they will lose all of their mana and easily perish to his blade. Either they remove the barrier and get hit by the sword or have their energy drained. A lose/lose type of scenario. 

Then we come to the armor which he is just now putting the finishing touches on. He opts for a leather chest plate, greaves, and gauntlets with small metal scales made of L6 bainite steel covering every inch of open space, the scales overlapping the same as Saphira's scales. He makes the scales a darker shade of blue that doesn't reflect light to make himself stealthier. (It's definitely not because his scales can't be prettier than Saphira's).

With an added touch, he engraves a dragon head on the left shoulder, taking inspiration from the Witcher games and making the armor look like it was made for the dragon school of witchers which doesn't actually exist. The enchantments are as follows. Durability so that he doesn't need to repair the armor, temperature control for comfort and protection from the elements, a gravity enchantment on the bottom of his boots so that he can climb walls or stick to Saphira's back without a saddle, two barriers, one for defense from any spell that tries to effect his body (There are a multitude of instant kill spells like stopping someone's heart, severing the nervous system ETC), and the second to filter out poison and insulate his body from liquids so he can breath underwater and swim without actually getting wet. 

…

One day, while Eragon is reading through the books in the grand library of the dwarves which Hrothgar gave him access to, Arya walks into the room and looks about for the young dragon rider and finds him seated at a table in the corner with Brom. Upon the table there are stacks of books that they are diligently reading through. She sees Eragon writing notes on some parchment whilst having a conversation with Brom. Arya contemplates for a moment before striding towards them and sitting down next to Brom. 

"How go your studies, Eragon?" 

Eragon looks over at her with a wry smile. "They are going quite well if I may say so. Once I finished making my sword and armor, I have been splitting my time between learning and combat practice." Eragon leans back and stretches, his spine making multiple cracking sounds. "How about you? Have you recovered sufficiently enough to return to Du Weldenvarden?" 

Arya contemplates for a moment. "I have recovered, yes. I was planning on having that duel with you before I left but it seems that the two of you are quite busy…" 

Eragon looks up from his notes. "I could use a good warmup right now. I have been working on this a good portion of the day and am getting kind of antsy. How about I meet you at the training field later this evening."

Arya nods, a small smile on her face. "I shall see you then."

Eragon waves to her as she leaves before heading back to the dragon roost. There he finds Saphira staring at him as he enters.

"Eragon… Do you still plan to court the elf?" 

Eragon nearly trips on air before looking up at Saphira with a raised eyebrow. "Definitely not. I mean… If she seems interested in the future I will consider it. Besides, you know how well that went for the previous Eragon…" 

Saphira snorts in contempt. "That won't stop your hormones from taking over in the future if you see an adequate female." 

Eragon gives her the stink eye. "You're the one to talk. The you from the novels goes head over heels for Glaedr. You even bit his leg when he rejected you." 

Saphira smacks Eragon lightly with her wing. "I have no idea what you are talking about." 

Eragon rights himself and glares at her for a few moments before letting out an exasperated sigh. Their conversation halts here as they make their way to the dining hall and fill their stomachs with the top notch cuisine of the dwarven chefs. One of the dwarves tries to give Saphira some mead but Eragon stops him saying 'If you don't want five barrels of your finest mead to disappear down her gullet I would advise you to rethink your actions'. The dwarf's face goes pale at the thought and quickly scampers away. Eragon chuckles to himself before deciding to polish up on his sword techniques before his match with Arya.