#firnen inheritance cycle

[everythingloveandanimated]

Inheritance Cycle readers… I am in need of discussion.

What are some of your predictions for the next installments?

Events that will happen in character arcs?

How will some relationships develop? Romantic and platonic. (what character drama are you eagerly awaiting with a bucket of popcorn on your lap?)

Events and adventures that you want to see in the plot?

[applejuucee]

I'm realizing I never posted any of my cartoony designs of the dragons, as they're pretty old, but this is a draft reference page for Saphira and Firnen's designs. Thorn is below!

Saphira is described as very gifted at flying in the books, so I wanted to make her aerodynamic/lethal looking. Firnen on the other hand is still pretty young, so he's a small lad for now.

Also, a very old Thorn piece. I love him dearly. I have his tail as turning black at the end, where Galby had forcibly regrown it after his battle with Glaedr.

[glbtrx]

I just realized that Eragon is always the third wheel

[murtagh-thorn]

In the mood to chat, so tell me your deep thoughts about anything Murtagh or Inheritance Cycle related: GO.

[barrel-gremlin]

On their way to a council meeting

[umunschaas]

More drawn plushies! This time canon ones though.

I'm currently a bit sick, so hopefully I didn't overlook anything.

Dragon!Nasuada will be the next thing I work on, if my brain doesn't demand something else out of nowhere :')

[thearunadragon]

Microraptor!!

How the Inheritance Cycle Characters Would React to Seeing a Dinosaur, Part Eight: Microraptor

ERAGON: Is absolutely smitten with how cute this thing is. Shows up hours later covered in bites and scratches but holding the dozing dino in his arms. 

SAPHIRA: IT’S THE SIZE OF my talon. Eragon, what the fug is this thing. (Saphira is later caught with dino standing on one of her neck spikes while she basks in the sun)

ARYA: Pretends not to care, but tailors it a little hat regardless. “This one can stay. You know, if it, like, wants to or something.” 

FÍRNEN: HYPED about how small this thing is. A li’l fren!!

NASUADA: *slowly pushes Microraptor a cup of coffee so she has a coffee buddy for her silent sit-alone-and-crisis hour* 

MURTAGH: “It won’t stop friggin’ bItINg mE—!”

OROMIS: (Is caught drinking tea with li’l dino sitting on his shoulder.) 

GLAEDR: Why is there a chicken-mouse in my deer?

GARROW: “…And now it’s riding the cat. ERAGON, NO MORE WEIRD TREE VERMIN IN THE HOUSE.” (Eventually makes friends with the pet he didn’t want, but he’ll never admit it.) 

BROM: This one is acceptable. 

ANGELA: *makes impossible shriek akin to the sound cleats would make on a basketball court floor if they were stoned* CLARENCE!!!!

Clarence: SKREEEuh!! 

Angela: I KNOW!! THE ECONOMY IS HORRIBLE! 

Clarence: SKREEEW! 

UVEK: (Bear Noises) *Hugs raptor in crook of arm* Squirrel.

Part Nine

[solarisetlesetoiles]

RGB squad for mermay :D

[modern-inheritance]

*lowers face into hands*

Oh my fucking god.

Firnen doesn't do the 'Little Claw' bit until he's physically larger than Arya. But he does pick up on Arya's habit of nicknaming things, and he likes calling her a name that I haven't quite decided on yet but oh my fucking god guys

'Stripes.'

He calls her Stripes.

And the first time he does it Arya is shirtless, sitting next to him while trying to do the dishes in the creak and she freezes up for a split second like '...Excuse me?!'

And Firnen, doing little doggy/dragon paddles in the water, stops too and she can tell he's uneasy with her sudden pause and he's concerned he went too far.

But...

'I love it, Stringbean.' She reaches out and taps his snout very good natured-like, fucking beaming. 'Makes me own them. Reclaiming it. Thank you.'

[mirielsart]

Firnen. Wish he'd been a little more present in the story. Next friday, Shruikan.

[glbtrx]

@phoenixisnthere requested Firnen and Saphira

[everythingloveandanimated]

I love the idea of Thorn teasing Saphira by acting like that younger brother who's taller than his older sister. Stretching his neck, stretching his wing and draping it over her, curling his tail around her.

Sometimes she humors him, sometimes she snorts at him.

He'll do the same with Firnen but it has more of an older brother comforting or being affectionate with younger brother. Firnen enjoys the extra warmth, especially while camping on cold nights.

[tired-fandom-ndn]

I think Arya should have horns or antlers eventually. Just as a little treat.

[umunschaas]

Dragons and their colors

Something that came to my mind a while ago when reading a short story that involved an accident and differently colored cars.

Take this all with a grain of salt, I'm no expert and different cultures can have different meanings for colors.

Saphira and Saphira I: blue:

loyalty, trust, calm, mind

sadness, melancholy, lies

Thorn and Morzan's dragon: red:

love, strong emotions, passion, strength (sometimes luck)

hate, danger, violence, anger

Fírnen: green:

hope, nature, health, energetic, growth

inexperience, jealousy, indifference

Glaedr: gold:

optimism, warmth, luck, wealth

superficiality, jealousy, lies, arrogance

Jarnunvösk: purple:

royalty, luxury, wealth, wisdom, ambition

grief, immature, overly sensitive, arrogance

Shruikan: black:

strength, elegance, seriousness

grief, death, loneliness, threatening, stagnation

[solarisetlesetoiles]

(this is late because it has taken me so long to relearn how to draw dragons)

anyway here is a (mostly) joking prediction for the Murtagh book

[modern-inheritance]

WIP with some cute, it's not finished yet but oh my god i love it

@magicandmundane @fuzzytheoristtyrant congrats you two liked the thing you made me smile I am giggling i love this

~~

The hatchling’s nostrils twitched, soft snuffles picking up in intensity. He lifted his angular head and immediately locked on to Brom.

Eyes of warm, brilliant amber, sharp and inquisitive, met the old Rider’s gaze. Brom hastily put a finger to his lips as the creature let out a burble of question, gangly limbs already disentangling from velvet wings. Of course he didn’t understand, a chuff of annoyance squeaking out as he stepped on the tip of his tail.

“‘Nuff, lil.” Brom winced. Arya’s groggy mumble was accompanied by a closed eye drag of her forearm, blindly trying to pull the hatchling back towards her. “Back’a sleep.”

The hatchling half hopped, half tripped out of her reach. 

And, to Brom’s silent amazement, raked his hind legs and kicked a wayward pillow into the elf’s still loose embrace. 

‘Smart for a little thing.’

Seemingly satisfied that his caretaker was nuzzling the pillow, the emerald hatchling dropped to the ground. Soft wings spread for a few measly feet of lift, a bit of a stumbled landing clattering muted ivory claws into the mossy stone. 

That was that. A dragon hatchling, a hundred years late, was sniffing at Brom’s boots. The creature lifted a paw, the scales startlingly lighter than the deep green of his back, and sank his claws into the leather, a hiss of warning at the new intruder now at his level.

Brom could not help his smile. A hatchling. A real, live hatchling! And a new Rider! They could not be far, not with the hatchling so undeniably new. 

“Hello there, little one.” Brom whispered. He carefully lowered himself to kneel, reaching out to gently pry the talons from his shoeleather. Stars knew the damn things couldn’t take much more regular wear and tear, not to mention a dragon having at them. “Hello. Where’s your partner at, then?”

The hatchling’s nostrils flared, smoke billowing out in twin streams as the elder Rider’s fingers came towards him. It was all Brom could to yank his hand away as the dragon’s head darted forward with a sharp, loud hiss, needle-like teeth snapping shut millimeters away from his fingertips. “Easy! Alright, it’s alr–”

“No!”

Stars flashed and blood roared in his ears. Something was on top of him, slammed him away and out of the doorway, rolling and spitting and snarling locked against his arms and digging into his side. The crashing and turning ended with a thud, grit digging at the back of his head, blood streaming from his nose, ribs screaming louder than he could suck in a breath to actually voice. He could taste pine needles and sap and dirt and there was fire above him and–

Everything stopped.

“...Brom?” 

The voice was quiet, shaking. 

Brom risked cracking open an eye. 

“At least…” The elder Rider managed to wheeze as Arya shifted the position of her knee against his ribcage, clambering off him. “Your protective instincts…are still there.”

“Please. Please.” Brom frowned. Arya wasn’t talking to him. She was looking over her shoulder, where the hatchling was half flapping, half stumbling an unseemly little run towards her where they ended up against the rocks beside the creek. “Don’t do that again. Wake me up first.” 

An affronted squall was all that met her plea, a rough puff of smoke trailing behind the darting green head. 

“I’m sorry.” Ah, now she was talking to him. “I…everything happened so fast, it’s been…we just got here, and…” Careful of his still ringing head, Arya helped her old mentor into a sitting position, a quiet spell resetting his broken nose. “I’m sorry.”

Brom rubbed his face free of blood with the back of his sleeve. “Don’t let me get in the way of your duties.” Even so, he scanned the clearing, looking for the necessary third person for this odd meeting to even occur. “You shouldn’t keep him here though, not when he’s so small. He needs to be with his partner as much as possible now. Where are they? Was it Alana or Dusan?”

“...About that.” A happy chirp and flap of still-unprepared wings, and the gangly green hatchling landed upon the elf’s shoulder. Arya’s hand shot up to help him balance, the motion so instinctive Brom couldn’t help but wonder if…

If it wasn’t the first time.

His eyes widened, a certain giddiness rising in his chest as a smile brighter than the damn sun began spreading across his face.

“Brom, I…” He could feel her shaking from the hand on his back, all her mottled joy and trepidation and uncertainty and elation tangling in her wavering voice. “I’m the only one who touched his egg.” 

A low, rumbling purr, so, so familiar to him yet separated by over a century, rose at the Crags of Tel'naeír once again as the green hatchling rubbed his rough cheek against Arya’s. Even in the dark of night, Brom could see the unmistakable match of the brilliant scales to the bright flecks in the woman’s eyes. 

“Brom, he…he hatched for me.” Arya let him reach up and take her left hand. With trembling fingers, pride and jubilation fit to burst from his skin, Brom turned it palm up. 

Moonlight caught in the silver mark that now graced the elf’s hand.

And Brom laughed. He laughed and felt tears springing up at the corners of his eyes. 

“Stars above!” He couldn’t help himself. The words came without his direction, and he let them roll off his tongue as if they were meant to be and set into the fabric of the world and all was finally, finally well. “Both my damn kids are Dragon Riders!”