Dark Legacies Part I: A New Shadow
Pairing: eventual Murtagh x Rider!Reader
Summary: Your and your dragon's arrival at Eragon's academy on has long been expected - and feared. After being on the run for several months from men in masks who want you dead and your dragon as their slave for unknown reasons, you're finally safe on the newly hospitable Vroengard. But what do these men in masks want, will they follow you into a den of dragons, and are you truly safe from the rumor mill and politics of those around you?
Warnings: mentions of past trauma, canon-typical violence, reader and her dragon both have trust issues, Vrael is present and annoying.
A/N: This is a series of one shots and drabbles that all take place in the same universe. You can read most of them out of order (except for the first two parts that will set up the series) and still understand what's going on, and some elements will be taken from other Murtagh x reader one shots of mine. You can find this series listed in chronological order the Dark Legacies masterlist.
PSA: Gormlaith is an Irish name (meaning “illustrious princess”) pronounced GORM-lah.
***
Elves, students, and hatchlings alike scattered as a large, dark shape blocked out the sun. The younger students who hadn’t lived through the torture of tyranny lingered to get a closer look at the giant shape above them, some of their dragons pulling them to safety and others baring their meager fangs in an attempt to protect. Some elves ushered their wards towards the safety of the buildings that made up the island’s academy while others tried to put on a brave face and say it was just some new students arriving – no cause for alarm. But of course, the new students noticed the ruckus below all the same.
All the images and emotions of those under his watch flooded Eragon’s mind as he stood on a grassy knoll a ways out from the campus he and his delegation of elves, dwarves, and humans had built with their own hands. Unable to tolerate their panic any longer, he opened his eyes to watch the already large black dragon grow in size as it flew closer.
“I…heard she’d be large,” Vrael said from behind him, “but not quite…that large.”
Eragon tried to exude an air of calm, standing still as stone with his hands clasped behind his back. He felt Saphira shift behind him with a low growl in her throat.
“Now, now, you two,” he said. “We cannot punish the child for the sins of the father.”
Vrael scoffed. “Well, the closer she gets, the more she definitely looks like her father.”
Eragon finally turned to his companion. “I would respectfully remind you that you’re here to oversee and take information back to your queen. Not pass judgment.”
The elf stared at him for a moment before nodding his head. “Of course, Shur’tugal.”
Eragon turned to watch the duo’s approach once more. “You said some elven scouts had seen them wandering about the borders of Du Weldenvarden?”
“Yes, but they seemed intent on us not getting too close. How long has it been since Guardian Borvaris delivered the egg to her village?”
Eragon drew in a breath as the dragon neared, finally able to realize her sheer size. “Not very.”
The grass flattened as the dragon spread her wings and settled onto the ground, already sending out a low warning growl and baring her head to block her rider from view. She was much larger than either Eragon or Saphira had anticipated and just as fearsome as her sire: eyes wild, teeth bared, and the haggardness from several months of being on the run only added credence to the rumors that she was wildly unpredictable. Morbidity and beauty reigned in equal measure to bear what many who had spotted them throughout Alagaësia had feared returned – a new shadow.
Just as Saphira bristled to assert dominance, the dragon calmed and lowered her head. Still a few yards away, she settled flat on her stomach, head still alert and legs still tensed to rise again at any moment. The form of a young woman who looked close in age to himself appeared and slid off the dragon’s back to walk towards them.
“Will the dragon not come any closer?” Vrael whispered.
Be silent, Saphira warned as the rider came to stand in front of the group.
~***~
You shoved your hands into your pants pockets, playing with a coin you always kept stashed for moments just as these. Unsure what to do or how to address anyone, you subtly bowed your head at the famed Eragon Shadeslayer. “Shur’tugal.”
He gave you a slow, cautious smile and returned the gesture, placing a hand over his heart. “Welcome. I’m only sorry it took you this much time and strife to get here. We sent some of our trackers and students after you, but to no avail.”
“We’ve become…well versed at evading most people.”
“A truth I’m very sorry for.” He craned his head to look at your dragon, who hadn’t moved from her spot and was taking in the surrounding scenery. “Greetings, friend. Would you allow us to come closer?”
Your dragon gave a low warning growl again, but you could feel her fear and need for reassurance through your bond.
“I think she’d be more comfortable with one at a time,” you advised.
Eragon nodded, again looking to your dragon. You could feel her surprise through your link. No one had talked to her like she was her own sentient being beside you in…well, ever. “May I approach?”
The dragon lowered her head in a slow nod and you watched Eragon descend the hill to meet her. He was dressed well, like the elven scouts you’d scared off at their lands’ border. He wore mostly blue and grey tones to match his own dragon, with an impressive sword hanging off his hip and an expensive looking cloak over his shoulders. It was a much darker blue than his shirt, but both had matching twisting silver designs bordering its edges. You self-consciously looked down at your own beat up clothing and were sure your skin and hair didn’t look any better. Your dragon even could do with a bath.
An elf who had been hovering behind Eragon remained aloof as he eyed you with an air of disdain, occasionally throwing nervous glances at your dragon. You turned to see Eragon reaching out a hand towards her nose only for her to flinch back in surprise. He said something you couldn’t hear, keeping his voice soft and warm, before she slowly sniffed him and let him touch.
You sighed, inspecting the lush grass covering the hill. It had been so long since either of you could trust anyone – and for your dragon, she’d only had you since she hatched. What if her sense of trust was permanently damaged? What if yours was?
I am sorry, little one, an unfamiliar voice rang through your mind.
You glanced up at the blue dragon in front of you. Although much older and wiser, she was smaller than your own fledging dragon. You sensed comfort and warmth from her and sank into the feeling, unsure of the last time you’d felt it. You knew she didn’t need to enter your mind to feel the grief and exhaustion rolling off the pair of you in waves.
I am Saphira, Eragon’s dragon, she continued, and I will be teaching your own dragon – sometimes alongside you, sometimes separately.
“What are your and your dragon’s names?” the elf finally interrupted.
You sensed annoyance flowing through your brief connection with Saphira. “I am Y/N, and my dragon is Gormlaith.”
“Can she really be that young to need teaching? She looks to be a few years from her size, at least.”
You shook your head. “No, she’s only six months old.”
The elf turned wide eyes to you. “Six months?! She’s huge!”
Feeling your own annoyance grow, you crossed your arms. “I’m sorry, and you are?”
The elf seemed offended and puffed out his chest. “Ambassador Vrael of the elves of Du Weldenvarden, and trusted servant to Arya Dröttning.”
You glanced mischievously at Saphira before returning to the elf with a shrug and slight shake of your head. “Never heard of you.”
Vrael spluttered as Saphira grumbled something that could’ve been mistaken for a laugh. A light hand on your shoulder distracted you and you turned to see Eragon. “Saphira here will take Gormlaith for a quick flight. It seems neither of you has had a decent meal in ages, so my dragon will show yours the hunting grounds while I show you where you’ll be staying. You can wash up, then join me in my quarters for something to eat and we’ll discuss training and answer your questions. Vrael, you are free to go.”
“But—”
Eragon grabbed your shoulder and turned you away from the elf, giving him a stern and empty smile. “Enjoy your stay here, Ambassador.”
The wind danced around you as both Saphira and Gormlaith took off. You followed Eragon down the hill to the nearby woods, glancing back to see your own dragon giving Saphira a wide berth, but following nonetheless.
It will be all right, you said. We’re where we were always meant to be. They’ll protect us here.
For how long? Gormlaith replied, worry coloring her tone. Before or after the rumors spread of who sired my egg?
You hesitated as you followed your new teacher to a stone path. The light cutting through the trees suddenly felt more ominous than comforting. I’ll always have your back, no matter what happens. I won’t let them torment you.
A powerful wave of love and gratitude flowed through your mind. And I you, my friend.
“I again apologize that we couldn’t locate and bring you two to safety sooner,” Eragon said as the sun disappeared behind some clouds. You couldn’t help feeling grateful, as if you were out from under a spotlight.
You habitually stayed a few steps behind him to protect your back. Although there were likely no plans for backstabbing in these woods, it was a hard habit to break and one could never be too careful. “It wasn’t your fault. We had to constantly be on the move to avoid capture – or torture, maiming, killing, whatever they had in mind.”
Eragon slowed to match your pace, his dark eyes concerned. “The reports I received were mixed at best. Would you mind telling me exactly what happened while we walk?”
You swallowed hard, concentrating on the breeze, birdsong, and smell of incoming rain. You’re here not there, you repeated to yourself. Here not there. As she flew further away, you could feel the bond between you and Gormlaith weaken and tried your best to cling to it. You could feel her doing the same and sent a wave of comfort, forcing a deep inhale.
“This is the furthest you’ve been from your dragon, isn’t it?” Eragon broke the silence.
You nodded, letting out a breath that was much more shuddery than intended.
Eragon stopped and gently took hold of your shoulders, turning you to face him. “I promise you, you’re both safe here. I won’t let any harm come to you nor let rumors spread into a forest fire.”
You were sure your fear was evident all over your face. “But…her sire is—”
“I know.” He let his arms drop down to his sides, gripping the pommel of his sword. His eyes turned distant and his knuckles went white against the hilt. “Shruikan.”
As if the air itself was reliving the terror of the king’s dragon, the sky grew dark and the wind chilled. You closed your eyes, shoving your hands deeper into your pockets and hunching your shoulders as if to protect your neck. Just as suddenly as it appeared, the darkness and cold scattered away. You opened your eyes to see your mentor staring at you with a heavy gaze.
“But Gormlaith is not her father. She’s committed no crimes, and neither have you. I can tell she trusts and loves you wholly – which, of course, all Riders and dragons have these bonds, but it feels…different with you two. As if you’re already on solid ground like an experienced Rider and dragon.”
You frowned. “Are you saying you and Saphira didn’t get along at one point?”
Eragon chuckled, gesturing for you to follow him down the path once more. “We’ve had our arguments and squabbles. We’ve always had and will always have a steadfast love, as well as trust and respect for each other. But I think it’s a bit normal for younger Riders and dragons to take some time finding their footing with each other, so to speak. It’s a strange shift, suddenly having another being privy to your inner thoughts and feelings all the time. As it is to be privy to all their inner thoughts and feelings as well.”
You laughed. “Tell me about it. But for so long, all we’ve had is each other. I didn’t exactly have many close friends or family left before everything happened, and then after Gormlaith hatched, neither of us were sure who to trust. People in strange masks were constantly trying to kidnap her, kill me, and we were just trying to make it here. Of course, I could only hide her in a jacket or vest or cloak for so long…”
You emerged into a long, narrow clearing that followed the path and lost your train of thought at the buildings before you. A large, stone building stood directly in front, its massive double doors open to the forest. Even from your distance, you could see the detail in the stonework as well as the massive gargoyle of a dragon, wings spread in flight, right above the ornate wooden doors. Flanking both sides to create a loose semi-circle were neighboring buildings that seemed somehow woven into the trees themselves, all with large covered balconies that smaller dragons flew in and out of. A few larger dragons – but none as large as Gormlaith, or even Saphira – raised their heads to get a good look at you from their high perches as their young riders played some games in the grass with all sorts of different obstacle courses, balls, bats, and nets. You nearly teared up seeing the utopia Eragon had created. You were finally among your own people – well, if the rumor mill wasn’t already too vicious.
You hadn’t even realized you stopped until Eragon put a gentle hand on your shoulder. “These are the Riders’ quarters. All of these balconies are made to house dragons.” He pointed to your left. “There are a few rows that are hidden by trees and other buildings, but normally we’ll have younger riders bunk together and have several hatchlings share a balcony. Obviously, once dragons become bigger, they’ll need a balcony with fewer roommates or all to themselves. Which is over on this side,” he turned to gesture to your right. “Gormlaith is obviously formidable size, so she’ll get her own balcony just on the end there, in this first row. Which means you will also receive your own private quarters. They’re modest size, but quite comfortable, if I do say so myself. This stone building in the middle is a common area for all the riders and is where we serve meals and have more general offices for myself and the other teachers here.”
No matter how long you looked at everything, it felt impossible to take in every detail. “It’s incredible what you’ve built here.”
He smiled. “Thank you. I hope you’ll find your stay comfortable.”
You turned your attention to him. “Forgive me, but…how exactly does this whole…system work?”
“Well, I can tell you more later, but,” he gestured for you to follow him towards the impressive tree on the end – your quarters – as he continued, “most students come to us as children with their fresh hatchlings and go through training as they grow. Once both they and their dragons are adults, they usually either stay here to help run the academy or go off toward Alagaësia to serve their respective leaders. But our academy is young enough that – ”
You both jumped as a ball narrowly avoided your head, bouncing to a halt at your feet.
“Careful now, Bronvir,” Eragon chuckled. “We don’t want to concuss your new classmate.”
You picked up the ball as Bronvir – a human child who couldn’t have been more than ten – stared at you with wide eyes. You gave him a small smile before handing his ball back to him.
“Do you ride the big, black dragon that just flew over?” he asked. A few of his peers who had been playing with him stopped to stare as well.
You took in a sharp inhale, prepared for the worst. “Yes.”
Bronvir smiled, revealing a missing front tooth. “Can I ride?”
You sighed in relief, laughing quietly as Eragon lightly scolded him. “Of course you can ride – with her permission, of course.”
A chorus of “oh, me too! – can I ride second? – no I want to be second! – how many can they carry at once? – can we go on a group ride? – can they breathe fire?” erupted as the children began to crowd closer into you.
“Now, now, let’s calm down,” Eragon yelled over the cacophony. “They’ve only just arrived, let’s all give them some space to rest from their travels.”
The children groaned synonymously before going back to their game, excitedly whispering about riding a full-size dragon and how they couldn’t wait until their own dragons were that big. Eragon continued leading you towards the large tree at the end of the row, which you could now see had an archway leading to a wide spiral staircase. “My apologies. They can be a bit excitable.”
“I’ll take that over what I was expecting.”
He gave you a sympathetic smile. “As I was saying, our academy is young enough that we don’t have too many who have already graduated to Shur’tugal status. Three of our graduates have stayed here to help care for the young, while four others have taken their services elsewhere. Although not all are riders – we train budding sorcerers in the art of magic and herbalism as well. We’ve only been a functional school for four years now and those who have graduated came here when they were much older than most students – much like you.”
“I got the impression when one of your guardians originally brought the eggs to my village that they mostly aim for children and teenagers.”
“Yes, but it’s ultimately up to the dragon. But older students are a bit more rare.”
The conversation stilled as you passed under the archway. The stairs seemed to branch out from the inside of the hollow trunk, but were still intricately detailed. You’d heard stories about how the elves did this with their own architecture as a way to preserve nature, and with how many elves were here as teachers and helpers, you couldn’t say you were surprised. By contrast, the common building looked more influenced by the dwarves and you’d recognized many of the games on the lawn as popular among human children. It was more soothing than you’d anticipated to see all the races who had isolated themselves during the war come together again.
You followed your new mentor up the stairs and past several landings that led to their own floors – all within and part of the tree itself. Most had archways with full views into the rooms, but at the top stood a closed wooden door with a dragon knocker. Another archway stood behind you, leading out of the tree and onto a series of bridges connecting the top floors of all the other trees that held riders’ quarters and balconies.
Eragon pulled a small black key out of his pocket, the handle carved into a dragon’s wing. “This is the key to your room, color-coded to your dragon. All the doors have wards placed on them so that they cannot be unlocked with magic by other students. However, if I or the other teachers suspect there’s something in there that’s a danger to either you or others, we reserve the right to lift the ward and let ourselves in.”
You nodded as he turned to unlock the door and stepped in after him. The room was a bit small, but felt like luxury compared to your travels and growing up in your small village. The furnishings were modest, but good quality, with a divider in the corner painted with an ornate tree that you assumed hid the bed, and a door on the opposite side leading to a small washroom. Once passed the bed, the floor dipped down into a small sitting area that led out to what would be Gormlaith’s balcony. The ceiling was high and domed with plenty of room for your dragon to move around comfortably. The balcony dipped down to create a reverse dome with part of it covered by what you assumed was a heavily padded dragon bed. The whole space had many warm tones, with plenty of hardwood accompanied by blue and green cushions, blankets, some small paintings on the wall, hanging shelves, and an overall demeanor that already felt safe and like home. You stood as Eragon moved towards the balcony to breathe it all in.
“Now, there are a few things to show you.” Eragon walked along the side of Gormlaith’s bed to the edge of the balcony. “These have doors that wrap around to provide you with privacy and protect from the weather. If you don’t already know the spell for this, there is a pulley system on the wall here that closes them.” He opened a small panel in the wall and pulled on a chord. Circular doors began to slide shut around the balcony until they sealed with a great boom, leaving the room dimly, but cozily lit from the lantern light on the walls. “They seal here in the middle, so you shouldn’t have to worry about any leaks.” He pulled on a different chord and the doors slowly opened again. “There are some minor wards over the balconies to keep out less intense weather. But if you just want privacy or if there’s a particularly bad storm, I’d advise keeping them closed. And now, over here – ”
Eragon returned to walk past you towards the washroom as you took a quick peek at the bed. It looked so comfortable, you almost wanted to ignore him to just flop straight on it. It was a double bed with a frame that looked again like it was somehow flowing out of the tree with a dark green duvet, two white feather pillows, and a small chest for belongings at its footboard. You forced yourself to Eragon’s side, but couldn’t help hoping he’d leave soon so you could test it for yourself.
He stood in the doorway to your washroom, where you noticed the accompanying tub was already full of steaming, soapy water. “This is your washroom and a bath is all ready for you. I assumed you didn’t have many belongings, so I’ve taken the liberty of decorating your room a bit for you. You have a few changes of clothes in the trunk at the foot of your bed, and also hanging here.” He gestured to a simple, but comfortable set of clothes hanging on the wall with a small insignia at the breast that looked like the mark on your palm. “The gedwëy ignasia symbol here marks you as a student. Once you get settled in, if you need more clothes, we can measure you and get you some, as well as test you and Gormlaith to see exactly where your abilities fall.”
You nodded and sighed, slightly overwhelmed.
He gave you a small smile. “I know it’s a lot to take in. Dinner won’t be for a few hours, so take the time you need to wash up, rest, and get used to your new surroundings. My office is in that stone building we saw earlier on the top floor. You can climb the stairs, then turn around and head into the door directly before you. Or there is also a balcony attached, if you’d prefer to land with Gormlaith. She and Saphira are almost done hunting and bathing in the lake and will return shortly.” He gestured to the small table between couches in your sitting area. “I’ve had a bowl of cheese, fruit, and bread prepared for you to tide you over until dinner. And with that, I’ll leave you to rest. Welcome again.” He gave you a small bow and dropped your room key into your palm before heading for the door.
“Wait. What do I call you?”
“I and the other teachers are referred to as ‘ebrithil’ here. It means ‘master’ in the Ancient Language, which we will teach you. Enjoy your quarters.” He gave you one last parting smile before closing the door behind himself.
You stood for a minute, soaking in the silence and sounds of the forest floating through the open balcony before moving to lock the door. Just as you did, Gormlaith’s connection suddenly became clearer in your mind, strengthening until you heard the telltale beat of wings. Your friend swooped onto the balcony, her claws gripping the railing that somehow seemed to hold her weight, before taking in the area. You felt her elation at seeing her very own bed and immediately settled into it with happy chirps and hums. You’d gotten so used to seeing her road-haggard look, the shine and sleekness from her bath amazed you. She truly was an illustrious dragon to behold.
You went to inspect the balcony yourself, placing a loving hand on Gormlaith’s nose as you passed. The view from your balcony was much more secluded than you anticipated and was sheltered by the canopy of the impossibly large trees that surrounded you and made up the rest of the riders’ quarters. You could faintly see and hear what went on in the yard and in others’ open balconies when the breeze parted the branches just right or the younger children screamed in delight at their game. You glanced up at the balcony doors and reached toward them, pulling from the magic you had even before Gormlaith hatched. You had a mentor in your village for a while, but she was strange and didn’t really use the Ancient Language much like you’d heard most riders and sorcerers do. But that was how she taught you and how you practiced. You used your hand to slowly pull the door partially closed to allow Gormlaith some privacy before joining her.
Comfortable? you asked.
Mmm, very. The bath helped. She leaned over to gently nuzzle your shoulder and you wrapped your arms around her nose to give her a big squeeze. As had become your tradition, Gormlaith gently lifted you several inches off the ground before setting you back down. You should take your own bath, friend.
Are you saying I stink?
Yes.
You laughed as she let out a stuttered exhale through her nose that could’ve been a laugh. All right, I’m going, I’m going. I’m assuming Eragon and Saphira would both rather us tell them our story when we smell nice.
Stay tuned for part II!
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