A Mission Most Unusual

[Gildor]

Gildor hated staying in Surda for very long. It was just so gosh darn hot. All year round, hot, hot, hot. He didn't understand it. He also didn't understand why the Council of Elders insisted on holding their meetings in the stuffiest palace room possible. It was ludicrous. How did they expect to get anything accomplished when they were all slowly roasting themselves in an stone oven?

"Mr. Helyanwë."

"Hm?"

"Are you quite well?"

It was then Gildor realized he had been nodding off in the middle of their discussion. As unprofessional of him as it was, he couldn't very well help it in this blazing heat.

"Been better," he answered bluntly after sitting up in his chair again. "But don't mind little ol' me. Please go on."

"It is now your time to state any information of recent Empire activity you may have uncovered while stationed in Teirm, Mr. Helyanwë."

There was a pause as this slowly registered into Gildor's slightly fried brain.

"Oh! Well in that case...!" he exclaimed, perking up a little more. However, he settled right back down with his arms folded. His news was anything but exciting, to him at least. "During my brief stay in Teirm, I had the, uh... 'fortune' of running into one the King's own Riders, quite literally... Iertoro."

The council hall went silent with dread at the name, but Gildor was hardly unsettled. He seemed rather annoyed, actually.

"As you all know, Ietoro is an extremely dangerous Empire Rider whose dragon is young, but fast and deadly. He is a highly skilled combatant, magically and otherwise. I did find out a few new tidbits, though..."

A couple of the Elders and a few Varden spies in the room leaned curiously forward in their seats, listening intently. Gildor had a reputation for discovering the most interesting of what he called 'tidbits' and never bothered showing up to meetings if he didn't have something promising to share. The longer he waited to gather his words, the more anxious the already blistering atmosphere became.

"Ietoro is..." he started, looking as though he were struggling to find just the right description. At last he threw a hand up in exasperation and shouted, "He's a bloody little brat! He called Galbitorix 'daddy' for crying out loud! He's a spoiled twit, and I sincerely hope he falls out of his expensive dragon saddle and breaks his skinny little neck."

An even longer, much more awkward silence followed those last... statements. Gildor didn't know it, but the Council and his fellow spies seated around the room were looking at each other in utter bewilderment. It was a full minute before one of the Elders chanced to ask him anything. Her voice wavered slightly as she attempted to contain her outrage towards his utterly immature behavior...

"Is there... a-anything else you discovered about Ietoro?"

Gildor wiped the sweat beading on his brow away on the back of hand, then scratched his chin and thought for a moment. "Well... I also found out he's of full-blooded Elvish decent."

The room fell silent once more. Gildor hadn't disappointed after all.

"Describe exactly what happened while you were stationed in Teirm, Mr. Helyanwë."

For the next twenty minutes, Gildor wove his tale of Teirm in his twisted little way. He described the incident with the foolish young man, where he was asked to feel the boy's arm and declare his worth in gold. He told of the two times he was chased throughout the city, though he made sure to leave out the incident where he mistook Ietoro for a horse. He spoke honestly when the time came to admit his near capture, and although he fully expressed his hatred of being thrown around on dragon back, complete with Elven curses and all, he also fully credited his rescue to Raven and his young, nameless dragon... well, almost fully.

"...I still could've taken 'im if he hadn't shown up," he muttered bitterly at the end of his story. "Ietoro finally gave up, I finally threw up, and then I managed to persuade Raven to take me here."

After a moment, he heard one of the Elders pound his meaty fists on the table, followed by the scraping of wooden chair legs on stone floor as he heavily got to his feet.

"Mr. Helyanwë, your work in Teirm has uncovered a very important piece of information that this Council must report to Lord Raylborn immediately. It appears the Empire has another powerful Rider we may have underestimated until now. You have also shed light on the fact that we can no longer procrastinate on dealing with our newest Rider's lack of communication and bonding with his dragon. As we must discuss this matter more deeply in private, all spies are dismissed until further notice, except for Mr. Helyanwë; please wait outside. Oh, and if you could inform one of the guards to summon Raven here on your way out... That is all."

...Once outside, Gildor not only told the guard to summon Raven, but to fetch him a cold beer as well. It was still so bloody hot.

[Vaan Axnyr]

Meanwhile, somewhere on about the other side of the castle, Vangur "the Raven" Svart was keeping himself largely occupied. With what he was occupying himself with was probably the last thing you'd expect from a Rider.

You see, Raven was busy using an interesting variation of Brisingr to make himself a steak. Yes, that's right. Meat.

This was not all too different to what Raven's as of yet nameless dragon was doing. The dragon, known for being rather neglected by his Rider, was out and about, trying to find himself a decent sized flock of steak deer. As usual, Raven was uncaring about whatever the rest of the world (including his dragon) thought.

He prodded his steak, declaring it fit to eat a moment later. And eat it he would have...

...had he not heard an indiscriminate member of the castle guard heading his way.

Raven blinked. Even without the guard coming close enough to "escort" him off to the Council's chambers, he already knew why he was being summoned. The stunts he had pulled back in Tierm were each their own seperate gamble, and now he was being paid back in spades.

"That's fine, as my job's done and I'm ready to go. Now you see me, now you..."

The next words were muttered under Raven's breath, the only clear thing about them being that they were definitely Ancient Language. The end result was still the same, and Raven disappeared from the guard's view.

"Hey! Where did he..." the guard began, stunned. He appeared to be unable to see Raven walk right past him, happily munching on the steak as he went.

Raven let the "don't notice me" spell drop just before he came up to the Council Chambers, and then tapped Gildor on the shoulder.

"Alright then, let's get this over with."

[Gildor]

"Well said," Gildor muttered moodily, then folded his arms over his chest, crossed his ankles, and leaned against the wall in the shade of a stone column. His feather-tipped wooden staff was propped up beside him, not in his hand like it usually was, but not out of reach.

"Could be a bit before we're called in. These things can be dreadfully long and even more boring, as I'm sure you discovered shortly after becoming a Rider."

For being completely blind, he hardly seemed phased by Raven's mysterious entrance and tap on the shoulder only a moment ago. Despite his milky, half-lidded stare, he always appeared to have full awareness of all his surroundings... well, most always, (everyone has clumsy moments).

"Where is your dragon, anyway? I thought dragon and Rider hardly ever separated," he asked inquisitively, perking his head up a little and narrowing his thin gray brows in slight suspicion. He didn't give Raven much of a chance to answer, however, because his suspicion suddenly melted into annoyance as he changed subjects and grumbled, "And where in the blazes is that guard with my beer?"

[Vaan Axnyr]

"Oh, the guard?" Raven took a moment to delight in the fact that he indirectly screwed Gildor out of his cold beer service. "Probably still wondering where the hell I went."

Raven resumed happily eating his steak, enjoying the looks he was getting for doing so. When he was finished, he turned to face Gildor.

"And, I'm my dragon's Rider, not his Keeper. Is it part of my job to keep one eye on him at all times?

...Rhetorical Question, don't bother answering."

Just then, the large chamber doors began to swing open in order to allow Raven and Gildor an audience with the Varden Council...

[Gildor]

"Oh, the guard? Probably still wondering where the hell I went."

"Lovely," Gildor muttered in response with a certain amount of edge to his voice.

"And I'm my dragon's Rider, not his Keeper. Is is part of my job to keep one eye on him at all times?

"Well, I just thought-"

"Rhetorical question. Don't bother answering."

Gildor considered him for a quiet moment, his brows narrowed in thought as he stared at nothing. The sound of the large wooden doors to the council room being opened jarred him from his short trance, and he pushed himself away from the wall. With his staff in hand again, the tip of it skimming the dusty ground softly, he walked beside Raven as they entered the stuffy room together.

"Sounds to me as though you need someone to help you figure out how to do your job as a Rider and bond with your beastie. I'll bet that's what the Council is up to with you," he said quietly as they walked in, and then added with a nervous laugh, "No offense lad, but after that horrifying ride here, I feel sorry for the unsuspecting bloke they hire for that miserable job."

The wooden doors creaked shut behind them, and Rider and Elf stood side by side in the center of the rounded council chamber. Gildor took note of the sound of a lock being placed on the outside of the door, though showed no outward acknowledgment. He could feel the gaze of the Elders upon them.

"Due to the outcomes of recent events, it has come to our attention, young Raven, that we can no longer allow you to serve the Varden with so little experience," one of the Elders announced in a booming, overly authoritative voice. Gildor hated that kind of voice. It never left enough room for argument or possible loopholes.

"Also, we cannot ignore your outright rejection of your dragon any longer. It is time you learned to bond with him, and time you received proper training as a Rider."

Why did he suddenly have the sinking feeling that he was going to be somehow unpleasantly involved in all this...?

"We have decided that Mr. Helyanwë is escort you to the Elves, where you will receive said training."

Oh... That's why.

[Vaan Axnyr]

Raven had the peculiar urge to cuss. Violently. However, he prided himself on his control of his emotions, and contented himself with:

"Remind me again, dear council, as to why I am needing an... escort... as you so kindly put it."

The council elder seemed to be getting very fed up. "Raven, you are aware that the elf cities are hidden, of course."

Raven was, but that didn't keep him from digging his heels in. "I do believe you forget just who I am. NOTHING is hidden."

"Then consider this a formality that we are forcing you to partake in."

Raven sighed. You never COULD win with old people.

[Gildor]

"Wait just one bleeding moment now. You want me to do what?" Gildor scoffed in utter disbelief after Raven's short argument.

That same, overly authoritative, no-nonsense drawl answered him sharply back, "We want you to escort Raven and his mount to Ellesméra, where he will receive proper training as a Rider and-"

"Yesyesyes, training and all, I got that," he interrupted quickly, waving a delicate hand as if the Elder's explanation annoyed him like a buzzing fly. "It's just the whole 'escorting' part I'm having a bit of trouble comprehending."

"What is it about your mission you do not understand, Mr. Helyanwë?"

Gildor looked outraged. "What I just said! Being a bloody escort! I am a spy, not a cross-country-babysitter." He crossed his arms angrily, his staff sticking out awkwardly between them. "I'll not have my talents or my pay wasted on such an unworthy assignment."

"Mr. Helyanwë!" one of the two lady Elders exclaimed, "It is not your place to determine which assignments are or are not 'worthy' of your commission! And I can assure you that this task is of the upmost importance."

Gildor retorted with some indecipherable Elvish under his breath, but did not openly deny this statement.

"However," she continued, almost grudgingly, "...we are prepared to compensate you for this unusual mission."

"Oh?" Gildor asked after a curious pause.

"We are willing to pay you seven-hundred gold pieces for the successful completion of this task," the Elder stated, "You will receive three-hundred-and-fifty now, and another three-hundred-and-fifty upon a successful return."

There was a brief moment of hesitation before Gildor uncrossed his arms. He took up his staff in his right hand, tossed it into his left hand, and then back to his right. He appeared to be weighing his options. If he accepted, he would be making a small fortune... but was traveling across the country for days on end with that cold, unnerving twit and his dragon worth it? He also had to consider the destination of their journey. He knew how to get to Ellesméra, and despite his blindness, could find his way there whenever he wanted to... but there was a reason why he had never wanted to. Still, it was a lot of money. And he could spend nearly half of it on faelnirv when they reached Ellesméra. Sweet, sweet faelnirv. How he missed it.

"Did I say I was a spy earlier? So sorry, I meant escort," he said at last, quite seriously too.

"We have an accord then, Mr. Helyanwë?"

"Aye."

"Then it is settled."

Settled without hearing any more of Raven's opinion in the matter at all, or his dragon's. Well... that's politics in action. Gildor's ears prickled as the lock on the council hall doors behind them clicked open. Ah, so they weren't going to take no for an answer anyway, the manipulative scoundrels. It seemed the Varden's politics got the better of the both of them.

[higure]

Patience was overrated, very much so, and it was something that Seaamros was lacking at this very moment in time. So when he walked into the building he knew the Varden council were meeting in and was met by armed guards instead of some form of a politician, he simply muttered a few words of the Ancient Language, the bare minimum needed for the spell, and restrained the man without stopping his quick walk.

Several more guards fell to his magical restraints, his mind open enough to locate them as they approached him, but he was growing bored of this game. Closing his eyes for a few seconds as he concentrated, searched for closed minds that he guessed would be those of either magic users, Riders or the council, then headed in that direction once he found a group of them all together.

His layers of clothing, brown and green, were stained by travel and somehow he had lost his sword and bow, an empty quiver hanging at his waist, but none would have approached the Elf alone after a single look at his face; at the frustration and anger that turned his features into a scowl. Besides, even unarmed his agility and speed were greater than that of all of the Human fighters in this town... how it hadn't been wiped out he did not know.

Approaching the collection of close-minded individuals, or more accurately the door to the room he believed led the way he wished, Seaamros threw weak defences around his mind; a trap for the stupid. Then, thinking the magic words instead of speaking them, he slammed the doors open and stepped into the room, bowing in the fashion of Elves with his hands in a strange gesture.

"Seaamros L'dak, I have been sent from Du Weldenvarden and have moved at all speed. Rumours of the Varden in control of another Dragon Rider have spread and my Queen wishes to remind the council of their agreement..." Oh yes, the frosty look he offered to the youngest of the group and his frown of distaste at the words 'Dragon Rider', bared his feelings to the world; he disliked this new Dragon Rider without even speaking to him.

[Gildor]

Gildor's half-shut eyelids opened suddenly as the faintest brush of another consciousness swept across his. He was used to the feeling, what with the members of Du Vrangr Gata slinking around the place all the time. This consciousness was different, though. It was familiar... too familiar. In fact, for a moment, he was almost certain he felt the presence of another elf headed straight for the-

BAM!

Although he had felt it coming, Gildor jumped in surprise at the sudden entrance and quickly turned around. The uninvited guest took a moment to bow before swiftly stating his purpose for the intrusion...

"Seaamros L'dark. I have been sent from Du Weldenvarden and have moved at all speed. Rumors of the Varden in control of another Dragon Rider have spread and my Queen wishes to remind the Council of their agreement..."

Gildor's frown disappeared after hearing that and slowly melted into a smirk. Had he been in a better mood, he probably would have broken down cackling. The irony was simply laughable! This poor messenger, probably not yet a hundred judging by his voice, had apparently run all the way across Alagaësia to remind the Varden Council to do their job, only to arrive a few measly seconds after they'd already done it. What a joke!

"Right then," he said casually, trying to hide the amusement in his voice with seriousness. He turned to Raven and pointed a long-nailed finger barely an inch away from his chest, acting as though they hadn't been interrupted at all. "I suggest you go wash up, pack, an' rest while I do the same. I will meet you and your beastie at the front gate as soon as night falls. I want to get out of here while it's not so bleeding hot. And we are not flying to Ellesméra, you understand?" He jabbed his finger into Raven's chest a bit threateningly and repeated, "Not flying."

He then faced the Council, bowed shortly in the human fashion, and turned on his heal to leave. However, on his way out, he stopped briefly as he passed by Seaamros. Smirking, he leaned closely to the younger elf's pointed ear and whispered, "You were about two seconds too late there, sonny. With some better luck next time, you'll do the Queen proud. Ta!"

With that, and a couple of rough pats on Seamross's back, Gildor swaggered out of the room while whistling an old Elven tune, his staff lightly skimming the ground.

[Vaan Axnyr]

If Raven was anyone else, he would most likely be twitching right about now. He turned to face the Council and fixed them all with a glare that would do Galbatorix proud.

"Right then. Is there anyone else who'd like to join this merry travelling band? No? GOOD."

Without any further delay, Raven strided out of the room. Barely noticeable was the fact that he was leaving behind a magical shockwave, mostly harmless until...

BAM!

For the second time in under ten minutes, the doors of the Council were slammed, this time being slammed closed. Once away from the presence of other people, Raven turned to the sky.

"Get ready to leave in half an hour."

But... you can't just go there emptyhanded! We have plenty of time until nightfall anyway, why the rush?

Instead of an answer, the sky was introduced to Raven's finest glare, as the Rider departed to find Gildor and/or drag him off if need be. Raven was NOT going to wait for the damned cripple to sit and enjoy getting drunk.

[Gildor]

((Since Higure hasn't been online in over a week, I'm moving this along without him))

Unfortunately for Raven, Gildor wasn't easily found when he didn't want to be. It was one such trait that made him so good at spying despite being blind.

He made his way out of the shady palace halls, and headed into the hot, dusty streets of Aberon. It was a good thing the bar and inn he was staying at wasn't too far of a walk, because the heat was really beginning to get to his head. After finding his way to the bar entrance and side stepping a couple of drunks tackling each other in the doorway, he picked his way through the bar and headed up the inn on the second floor, paying no heed to the stares he felt boring into him. It's what he got for having pointed ears in human territory.

Once in his slightly cooler and more comfortable rented room, Gildor set his staff aside on the unmade bed and took his time with untangling the tie in his hair. He washed his face and unruly hair in the large bowl of water left on the dresser, dried off with magic, and stuffed the inn's complementary towel in his travel bag. He could tear a strip of it later and use it as a new blindfold, since that twit Rider Fadriendel stole his last one in Teirm. He rather liked his last blindfold. It was a trophy piece he stole from the lacy dress of a wonderful woman he met in Daret, right after they had-

...Gildor's ears prickled at the sound of another drunken fight breaking out downstairs. He always did seem to pick the noisiest place in town to stay at. Well, after being paid, he'd be staying in much nicer places for a while. Hopefully nicer places with better drinks and good company and-

Wait... That was no drunken fight. If his ears weren't mistaken, what he took to be the sounds of fists and punches before were actually the sound of...

"That bloody little blockhead," Gildor muttered to himself, and quickly began stuffing his belongings into his travel satchel. He threw the messily packed bag over one shoulder, his cloak over the other, then grabbed his staff and coin pouch and hurried downstairs. Sure enough, what he took to be the sounds of a bar fight were actually the sounds of small dragon wings fluttering outside. Was Raven trying to land his dragon in front of the bar? That lunatic!

Deciding to bide his time while Raven made a fool of himself, Gildor put the money for his stay down on the bar counter along with a little extra for a drink, which he got himself, since the bartender was too busy trying to calm his other costumers. After tying his coin pouch back to his belt, he grabbed a bottle that smelled like pumpkin spiced ale and stormed out of the bar, ready to give that rebellious brat a piece of his mind.

[Vaan Axnyr]

Unfortunately for Gildor, Raven was planning on Gildor coming outside.

After all, he had decided the moment he reached the general area of the bar that it was going to be a futile and highly damaging effort to attempt a landing. Therefore, Raven took the sensible approach and decided to cause as much ruckus as possible in order to draw out the blind elf.

Gildor fell for it, hook line and sinker.

And the moment he was out in the open...

Grab him.

Are you sure about this...?

Raven merely glared. The dragon gave a mental sigh before dipping his head down and grabbing Gildor by the scruff of his collar.

Once he had a nice grip, the nameless dragon pulled its head back up and dumped the elf on the back of the saddle.

"If I were you, I'd lose the drink about... now."

The dragon took that as the cue to leave. And leave he did... as fast as possible for him, being weighed down as he was.

[Gildor]

Gildor had to throw an arm up in front of him to keep the swirling gusts of wind and dirt caused by the hovering dragon out of his face. Still, this didn't stop him from voicing how furious all this unnecessary commotion was making him.

"RAVEN!" he barked up to were the loud beating of leathery wings and dusty wind was coming from, "Quit makin' fool out of yourself and go land somewhere proper!! I'll not be paying for any damages you or beastie-GAAAAHHHH!!!!"

Picked up by his collar again and thrown onto the back of a dragon again? This occurance was becoming all too old and tiresome for Gildor. They weren't even traveling yet, and he was already becoming sick of being pushed around! He could barely hear Raven speaking through the wind rushing past his ears, (something about loosing his drink) and he screamed again as they suddenly sped forward. Unable to help himself, Gildor quickly dropped his liquor and latched his arms tightly around the only thing there was to hold onto: Raven's waist.

"I told you no flying!" he shouted as he clung desperately to Raven, sounding strangely more angered compared to last time this happened, when he was scared of of his mind. It seemed Raven had finally managed to genuinely piss Gildor off. Now... was he ready to handle the consequences?

Without hesitation, Gildor whispered something in the harsh tones and swirling vowels of the Ancient Language. It was too faint to understand through the hot rushing wind, but he amplified every word and syllable in his mind. Translated, the spell went something like, "Let the weight upon this dragon's back gradually increase until he can fly no more."

He was going to teach this disobedient young Rider a lesson in respect whether it was fair to his little dragon or not. Besides, the best way to hurt a Rider was to hurt his dragon, was it not? Gildor could of course protect himself if they ended up crash-landing on top of a building or tree, but he doubted the young nameless dragon could, and he doubted his Rider had enough experience in magic to figure out the spell in time to counter it.

[Vaan Axnyr]

Raven immediately turned around and slapped Gildor upside the head glared at Gildor. "Is there any particular reason why you're embracing me like one of your Playmates?"

Gildor's only response was to cast his spell. The effects were immediate, and in this case, that was a bad thing.

Uh... Raven? Gildor cast some spell and now we're losing altitude.

Keep flying.

By this point, the nameless dragon knew better than to argue with Raven and kept flying, as instructed. Raven was inwardly grinning like a maniac, as he had done the math and their point of crash was going to be very amusing...

For him, anyway. Gildor would probably disagree, and here's why:

When the little dragon finally couldn't fly any more, he simply dropped like a stone.

Right through the Council Room's roof. And Raven, for the first time overwhelmed by the bond which he was trying (and failing) to repress, screamed.

He screamed because of the pressure from Gildor's spell. He screamed because of the pain he felt from his bondmate, who took the brunt of the damage caused by crashing through the roof. He screamed from being hit by some of the debris that managed to get past the unintended buffer of Raven's dragon.

And he screamed as the dragon finally impacted the ground, giving a pained roar before falling into unconsciousness - the last noise it would ever make.

The final crash did not see Raven faring much better, as he was tossed violently from the saddle and onto the hard ground, landing to the sound of more bones breaking.

And yet, Raven lived on after this catastrophe... even if not for more than a single minute.