#Eragon vanquisher of snails

[modern-inheritance]

A Moment Alone

Arya: *soft smile* My silly man. What are you trying to grow on your face?

Eragon: *blushing like crazy, grinning and melting because yeah...never gets old for him*

I might try to do this but again...faces and I do not mix.

[alagaesia-headcanons]

Eragon: You know, the indigenous species of Vroengard can be real aggressive, so it's important to take all necessary precautions when approaching.

Eragon: *blowing an air horn at a snalgli* get fucked!!

[the-young-and-forgotten]

just a reminder that by my calculations, eragon was an 18 yr old boy in ‘Inheritance’ and that is STILL. YOUNG. and if this poor, long suffering boy wants to call himself Vanquisher of Snails for a few minutes let him be the goddamn Vanquisher of Snails. I for one cannot wait until the day a new rider asks for his name and he responds with: “Eragon Shadeslayer, Kingkiller ...and Vanquisher of Snails”

[something-called-sno]

Eragon (And why this series is a gem)

Uhg, you guys. Ive been re-reading the_ Inheritance Series_ and browsing though the wiki, and can I just say, Eragon. I love him so much. Despite the series being.... Okay you know what, we where kids, like teenagers. Of course we loved the books despite the cheesy writing.   Okay, so this is like more of a rant/ adore post. So bear with me, its kinda messy. <3

Dumb as rocks Eragon, has some fantastic descriptions from the other characters of the book and his power. Yeah, he can kick anyones ass. Lets list them: Appearance:

He started out as a simple farm boy. Skinny, gaunt, almost starving.

Average height

Intense brown eyes

brown hair

An average nobody, honestly

He then starts to train and become more powerful and he has a magic spell cast on him to change his appearance:

Face more angular and smooth

Skin emitting a faint glow of magic

Slanted eyes and tapered ears

Hotter then a sexy dude, and more rugged than a elf.

Like, lets just pause there for a minute. Im swooning. thats like a perfect combination. No wonder everyone was falling over him. BUT HE WAS SO GOD DANG OBLIVIOUS to it.. Like bruh. 

And then how others describe him:

(In Battle) “Garbed like a prince”

“powerful and implacable”

“fearsome warrior”

More noble and feline

Dude. Eragon is so oblivious to all of that. Like amen, he was more concerned about NOT DYING, and running off to go do stupid things that actually turned out to be helpful, than what others thought about him. Hes like the most down to earth guy ever. How could anyone hate him. Hes only trying to survive while going through puberty. Literally. 

His Titles.. Like Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, you gotta step up your game. 

Shadeslayer 

Firesword 

Argetlam 

Shur'tugal

The Last Free Rider (Formerly) 

Bromsson

Son of None (Formerly) 

Bane of the Ra'zac

Morzansson (Formerly)

Elf Friend

Kingkiller

Grand Master of the Dragon Rider order

Leader of the Varden 

Vanquisher of Snails

Little One 

God dammit, if this isnt awesome enough. 

Love interests:

ONLY ONE. Like goddamn, he was oblivious to everyone else. Cough Cough Trianna you are weak. Go away. 

Arya. Arya was his one true love. AND GUESS WHAT? They. Did. Not. End. up. Together. By. the. End. Of. THE. SERIES.

Not even a kiss. (Im sure alot of us where disappointing, because finally Arya had warmed up to Eragon.) Urgm still salty about that. BUT, There was something better.

Arya is starting to reciprocate Eragon's feelings but her sense of duty and fear of Eragon losing interest in her and so betraying her keeps her from fully acknowledging her feelings. BRB, Going to go cry in a corner, because they are perfect for each other and never ended up together. (Im looking at the next book, CP, There better be a reunion with lots of drinking involved)

LIKE I know this shouldnt be about Arya, but Damn, if Im not squealing at thier growing relationship. And while everyone moans how Arya is a cold, rude person, SHE HAS SECRET FEARS AND FEELINGS OKAY?!

BUT THE BEST PART?! Eragon gives her his True name, and she gives him hers. SHE DIDNT EVEN GIVE THAT TO HER FIRST LOVE. If that is not relationship goals, then I need to reevaluate everything, becuase that is far more precious than any kiss ever. (but still, I wanted one kiss)

Ruling.

Eragon never really wanted to rule. Even when Nasuada was kidnapped and he was made successor, (Like what?) he stepped up to the role, but when things went back to normal he stepped back.  Like, his this super powerful magician/Dragon rider, who could probably pulverize everyone and anyone who as much blinked wrong in his direction and establish himself like a God. but no, Little precious Eragon was like:

“Bitch, I did not sign up to lead a rebel group, I only wanna be part of the rebel group and kick butt, while freaking out, because everyone is waiting for me to smash Galby the Evil King to pieces, but im not sure Im strong enough, and I dont want to fail.”  Like, awww. Lil Eragon, as powerful as he is, is a little unsure and insecure, even though he is like the most powerful person in the army. I love him for it. 

Defeating the Evil King:

LOOK AT THIS. Eragon defeated the most Tyrannical ruler by giving him a sense of EMPATHY.

Like, what is this?!** Instead of stabbing him with a sword, he broke into the Kings mind, and made he relive all the sorrow and pain that Galby caused the people, and that broke the King so much, he killed himself!** Like, bro. Game on. Good job, Eragon. I was really hoping for some burning and like a slap, but emotions. Emotions killed the evil king. 

His relationship with Saphira. We gotta look at this backwards.

Saphira is like his mom. Lets be real here. She is the mom like figure he never had.

He cuts his hand on a branch? Momma Saphira is right there to smash the tree to pieces and make sure hes okay

He cuts his chin while shaving. Saphira claws down the bathroom door and gets stuck while trying to rescue Eragon from his clumsiness

Eragon is insulted (By Vanir), Saphira was ready to rip the insulters heart out with her claw.

Like Mom of the Year and LIFE award goes to Saphira his dragon. 

** **

God, I could go on and on about Eragon, and how imperfect he is, and insecure, and failing at picking up chicks, even though he is respected and admired by everyone, and would have no problem with it. 

But then hes like, Dude. I gotta man up and destroy this evil. And hes like, time to kick some ass, and along the way make friends with everyone and unite the whole land, live life. Get this shit done with and just chill out.

Eragon is like.. The best character ever, and his arch and development is so great, everyone needs to read the Inheritance Series. 

Okay, thats it. I think Im done. I could probably go on for like ever, but I ran out of wine and I would be here till like the end of the year.  ** THIS WAS MY CHILDHOOD SERIES. I GREW UP WITH THESE BOOKS. Im freaking 24, and I still kinda obsess over it. **

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Shotglass (Short) (Eldest)

(Rough, not reread, quick word vomit when the idea came to me.)

Set in the extended timeline where there's a few days between Ajihad's funeral and leaving for Ellesmera. Eragon and Saphira are still grappling with the loss of Murtagh, so Brom and Arya take the duo to the Varden's traveling bar run by an old friend of the elf's. Since Arya is technically off duty, she decides to indulge a bit and order a bit of alcohol, leading to the reinstatement of a very old rule.

~~~~~

“Is this really necessary in front of Eragon and Saphira?” 

“You know the rules.” Brom chided. He gestured with a crooked finger, eyes crinkled at the edges and stern. 

Arya stifled the aggravated sigh that was rapidly building in her throat. She hadn’t had to suffer this song and dance for a long while, even by her standards. Glen and Fäolin hadn’t particularly cared, they trusted her judgment and knew she had a firm grasp on her limitations. 

But Brom? She honestly thought he was just showing off at this point.

Though, whether it was showing off her deference to him– a deference not of fear or respect for the chain of command but built off their years of work together and her true respect of his opinion, mind you– in front of Eragon and Saphira, or him showing off the tricks and casual abilities of his wild child former ward, Arya hadn’t decided yet. 

Still. He had asked nicely. Even if she wasn’t on duty, she’d do as he asked. Ridiculous as it was. 

The elf crouched slightly and allowed the old Rider to delicately place the shotglass atop her head. 

Eragon watched, dark eyes filled with their usual curiosity. Flickers of thought passed through the air, images, sights, sounds, before he perked up with a cracked grin that split his face like joyous lightning. 

“Drunk elf detector.” He giggled to himself and spun around on the squeaky stool Coop had cleaned off just for him. From outside, her bulk too much for the bar just barely holding together at the seams, the raking cough of draconic chuckling rattled the dusty windows panes. Saphira’s snout peeked in through the doorway, taking in the sight with her own eyes before another ruk-ruk chorus filled her throat. 

Brom stepped back to check his handiwork. “And an effective one at that. The second that glass falls, she's cut off for the night.”

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” Arya mumbled, slipping into her usual seat. The shotglass balanced on her head didn't wobble in the slightest. Coop already had her usual waiting, the former Combat Engineer having disappeared off to the back to prepare for the night’s usual rabble. “You realize you’re going dry tonight?”

A sour expression colored Brom’s face. “Don’t remind me, girl.”

Gentle, a tug pulled at the thread she left open in her mental defenses. Arya allowed her former mentor in, taking a sip of her drink as Eragon began chattering about the tavern in his hometown. 

‘It’s worth it.’ The old man rumbled in her mind, soft and affectionate in a way she so rarely heard from him. He couldn’t hide it here, not completely. She could almost read him like a book after so long, and he had stopped trying to keep her from his true feelings when they spoke this way. ‘Worth it to see him smile again.’

‘I’ll drink to that, old man.’

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: When You're Not Fine (short)

Eragon learns over the years.

Saphira's good at picking up on Arya's swings into darker thoughts, is especially good at sensing when the elf is holding back on going to Glenwing or talking through it with Brom.

The dragon doesn't do big shows of affection with her partner's bodyguard. It's little things, things that remind her of the dim memories inside her egg, the gentle brushes of thought, concern, warmth. Paying those moments back with the barest graze of her jaw against the back of the elf's head, the drape of the very tip of her tail over her feet, a low resonance hum only they could hear when she passes by. Saphira never asks, only voices her concern and care in words a sparse handful of occasions, but she always can feel the tension ease, at least enough for the woman to breathe deep.

Eragon doesn't always pick up on it. At first, when he did, he gave her space. She always seemed to have someone else to go to. Glenwing, her twin in all but blood, Brom, the father she never had, even Blödhgarm, war torn and so easy in hiding it.

But then he started to notice. Started finding her curled up and asleep beside Saphira's wing on nights she was scheduled off duty, caught her staring off with hollow eyes, crossed paths with her during restless nights pacing the camp looking for danger.

She confessed to him, one of those high-strung nights, that she didn't like bothering the others. Glenwing coped better than she did, and while she knew he was always open to her and would spend as many nights as she needed awake and by her side and ready to comfort her waking nightmares...she worried it would drive him just as mad as it had her. No matter how much he assured her it wouldn't, she didn't want to keep him awake, not when his own demons could raise their heads.

And Brom. Brom was under so much pressure already. She could feel the guilt under his skin when she made passing remarks about her captivity. Blödhgarm was of an entirely different generation of warriors, his experiences similar yet vastly different from hers. He never really understood.

And she told him that she would never seek him out, nor Saphira, for comfort when Gil’ead or the bloodsoaked past came calling. 

She would linger near them, yes. Take solace in their very presence in her life, an anchor to time after, after the Shade, after he died, after the years and years fighting battles that seemed in retrospect to have only gained inches rather than miles. But she would never, never wake them, swore to never trouble them with her memories and her pain. They had so much of their own, and so young at that. They didn’t need to shoulder hers as well.

Eragon hurt at the statement. He was her friend. Hell, he loved her. 

So he found a way that she could come to him, come to them, without breaking her promise.

The next time he felt that telltale tension, heard her soft pacing outside his tent, he went to her. Ignored that she pointedly looked away, matched her steps and fell into stride beside her. 

It must have looked so silly to observers. But he didn’t care. 

He offered his hand. Palm up. Waited patiently, step for step, never faltering, never dropping his hand.

Hesitantly. Jerkily. 

Her hand settled into his. 

He did his best to convey his trust in her through the contact. The warmth he felt, not the romantic yearnings but the simple companionship of a friend forged in experience and shared pain and joy and all the things they had done together. Told her through the simple touch that he was there. He would always be there, as long as she needed him to be, as long as she wanted him to be. 

There didn’t have to be words if she didn’t want to share. He and Saphira would do what friends did.

Arya’s fingers tightened around his palm. A soft squeeze of thanks. 

And so it went. For years. Decades. Centuries.

Whenever they fought their demons, wrestled with them in their minds and refused to let others see and hear…one of them would be there. Holding out a hand. Palm up. Simply waiting.

There was no ‘Are you okay?’ or ‘How are you feeling?’ 

Just a hand. Offered up. 

Sometimes a touch is all that was needed. 

[modern-inheritance]

Such a nerd

hehehehehehehh Eragon: *has his transformation during the bloodoath celebration* Everyone else: ooo, aaaaah, magic! Me, giggling madly: Heh heh, get CRISPR'd, bitch.

[modern-inheritance]

Sorry I’m on a ‘let them be happy dorks’ kick again.

Post war (or even just post relationship establishment) Eragon getting a chance to decompress and he’s laying sprawled out somewhere and Arya just walks up with this look that he knows that is very very quietly screaming ‘I am tired, everything hurts, my brain is a warzone and Glen and I both have exhausted ourselves trying to get some peace and I don’t want to bother him and I am just-‘

And Eragon just scoots over slightly, lifts one arm, and that’s all it takes and Arya just sorta cuddles up to him. Quietly threatening him under her breath that the only reason she’s doing it in public is because no one else but the guards, Brom, Nasuada, Roran and Katrina, and Angela and Solembum know that they went from war buddies/war family to romantic so to anyone else it just looks like their usual casual closeness.

Eragon toys with the end of her braid and doesn’t say anything but he’s got this soft smile like ‘I am happy now. Stress gone. Thank you for being close. Thank you for being vulnerable and trusting me with that.’

And then they take a fucking nap because we all know they need it. Saphira’s watching them and knock backs anyone without urgent news. Let her boy and his weirdass bodyguard sleep.

Wow I write a lot about people being tired and sleeping/not sleeping. Hm.

Maybe I should go get that evaluated is my brain trying to tell me something??

[modern-inheritance]

I said i don't do faces and i fuckin meant it.

you can, however, see the barest bit of sideburns lol

[modern-inheritance]

Snippet from future story Modern Inheritance: Triggered (A later story regarding 'Grip' and the effects it has on Eragon and Arya's relationship)

“I should have told you earlier. Before any of this got...physical.” Arya dropped her gaze, fixing it on where the tent flaps had whisked away the dust and grass to reveal tightly packed earth. “I…get it. If you don’t….” She trailed off her mumbling before finding it again, barely loud enough for him to hear, “If you don’t want to be with someone that’s been Shade-touched.”

Eragon was on his feet in an instant. “No!” The elf flinched when his hands came up, and with a cold pang in his chest the young Rider slowed his movements. Carefully, tenderly, he cupped her face, cradled her in his palms like the most precious thing in his life beyond the Partner of Heart and Mind that guarded their tent with her tail around the little structure. 

“First off! I love you, my silly elf.” He smiled when Arya’s cheeks dusted pink at the words, dragging her eyes to his. “You’re the most amazing, beautiful, sexy and strong woman I know walking around on two legs. Nothing will ever change my opinion on that.

“Second, if anyone has said anything about you being unworthy of love after what you went through, what you survived, what you won against all odds…I’m going to take a page out of your book and headbutt them in the face, just the way you taught me.” Eragon’s brows dipped at the thought. Not the headbutting part, he was itching to do it! But the mere idea that anyone would call Arya unworthy, call her broken or untouchable or unclean after her ordeal made his teeth tighten up. 

Arya let out a half scoff, half laugh at his assertion, shaking her head softly as he slid his hands from her face. At least the elf wasn’t looking so…so afraid anymore. Eragon would rather leap off Saphira again than see that fear in her eyes. 

“And third….” The young Rider reached out again and twined their fingers together with a resolute nod. “We need to go find Trianna.”

The statement flitted confusion across Arya’s face. Trianna? “What?”

“We are going to go find Trianna,” Eragon repeated, his frown deepening as his lip lifted. The ground beneath their feet vibrated almost imperceptibly, Saphira’s soft growl rumbling through the earth as she picked up on her partner’s intent, wishful thinking it may be. “And she is going to summon the spirits that were in Durza, and I am going to absolutely slaughter them for what they tried to do.” 

Arya stared at him, her face blank. For a moment Eragon wondered if he had let his rage go too far. 

And then, with a quiet sigh and small smile that told him multitudes, Arya shook her head again and placed her free hand on his cheek. “You’re an idiot, Eragon Bromsson.”

He leaned into her touch, cool relief seeping from her mind to him through the contact. “But am I your favorite idiot?”

“Forever and always. As long as you would have me.”

[modern-inheritance]

A little bit of a teaser for the end (maybe? there could be more? there's almost always more) for Wardbreakers

Eragon took a similarly distanced step back. Saphira’s tail tip curled around his boots, ready to yank him away. “Are they trapped?”

The wry grin that graced Arya’s tight lips seemed…sad. “No. Not in the usual sense, really. Just to us. Up here.” She tapped the side of her head, where the dark line of dried blood still heralded the close call she had with these Wardbreakers. 

Most recently at least.

“These, Eragon, Saphira,” Arya tightened her hold on Glenwing’s hand when he looked away, her other hand sliding into the pocket of her combat pants in a desperate attempt to look far calmer than her racing heart would allow. 

“These…are Durza’s Wardbreakers.” 

She looked up, and yes, that soft grin was etched with uncertainty, fear, concern, an undeniable piece of the past made material tightening her throat and tilting her brows up. “These are the kin of the rounds that took Glen’s arm, and took Fäolin’s life.” 

His breath left his lungs in a soft curse. “Oh shit.” 

Saphira mirrored his sentiment. ‘Oh shit.’

[the-young-and-forgotten]

one more thing:

Eragon’s character development couldn’t be better written, he demonstrated growth while maintaining his personality and morals throughout the series, acting his age in some parts making the book fun and sassy to read... acting like the teen he was. He reflected on life like a weary boy who has seen way too much and learned to deal with it because he had to in order to survive. He is wholly Eragon Shadeslayer, Kingkiller. and Vanquisher of Snails