This story takes place right after Eldest.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize from Christopher Paolini's books. However, I do own everything you don't recognize. This disclaimer is for the entire story.
Unforeseen Hero
Chapter One
After the battle on The Burning Plains . . .
Angry black eyes glared at the man and his red dragon in front of him. They had their heads bowed, afraid to meet the King's gaze.
"So," Galbatorix hissed. "You let them escape." The pair kept silent. "I'm deeply disappointed in you two. I trained you with all that I know, giving you more than enough power and skills to capture them, and still you come to me empty handed? Do you want my plan to fail?"
"No, Master."
No, Master.
"I didn't think that it was necessary before, but now I see that your susceptible behavior toward your brother has affected your judgment. You both will swear to me in the Ancient language the capture of both Rider and dragon alive no matter what it takes." They did so, but not without reluctance. Nevertheless, Galbatorix seemed satisfied since the language bound them to their word. "Now leave, and don't you dare come back without them – or I may lose my patience."
Once the hall was deserted except for Galbatorix, a boy of fifteen came out from the shadows. He ran a hand through his inch-long black hair and gazed upon the King with his crude dark eyes.
"Why do you insist on using Murtagh to capture the Rider?" he asked in a dour tone. Galbatorix turned to him.
"I don't need to explain myself; least of all to you, boy," the King said harshly. The boy shrugged his shoulders.
"You and I both know that he's bound to make another crucial mistake."
"He's doing a better job than you ever will. A dragon actually chose him." The simple statement changed the boy's indifferent approach to the argument. He clenched his jaw.
"It isn't my fault I wasn't chosen," he said through his teeth. Galbatorix sneered, knowing he touched a nerve.
"You are just like your mother . . . worthless," he spat. The boy glared at him.
"If I'm so worthless, then why do you keep me around?" he asked heatedly.
"Careful, boy," the King hissed. "You don't want to die, do you?" The boy held his head defiantly, looking the King straight in the eyes. The King raised his hand and slightly parted his lips to speak – which made the boy cower in fear.
"No! No; I don't want to die," he said, defeated. Galbatorix curled his lip in disgust.
"I don't want to look at your pathetic face anymore. Leave me. Now." The boy turned on his heel and stormed out.
You know, you used to like your son, came Shruikan's gruff voice.
Speak when you're spoken to, dragon, the King snapped. Shruikan withdrew from his mind, and Galbatorix was left to brood on the matter on his own.
……………
Taiven marched angrily from the throne room with his arms held stiffly at his sides, his hands in fists. He didn't even shiver as he passed through the cold, dark halls of the castle to his chambers. When he reached his door, he flung it open and then slammed it closed. The sound resounded loudly off the walls, which would most likely carry to where the King was and result in a punishment of some sort, but Taiven didn't care. He was so tired of his so-called father's behavior toward him. His father wasn't always so cruel. It was all because of those stupid eggs.
When he was small, Galbatorix actually showed some affection toward him. Granted, it wasn't much, but at least Taiven felt wanted. Then, when he was about nine or ten, Galbatorix brought him to the highly guarded room that held the last two dragon eggs. Taiven eyed them eagerly and rushed to lay a hand on them in hopes that one would hatch for him – but neither egg did. His father never looked at him the same again; there was always a hint of aversion in his cold, black eyes.
A knock came from the door. Taiven glared at it. He knew it wasn't his father; Galbatorix never visited his room, even if it was to punish him, and sent servants with his orders instead. Plus, he wouldn't have knocked. When no answer came from Taiven, the knock was heard again. He grew irritated.
"What is it?" he snapped.
"Taiven, it's me. Can I come in?" asked a small voice, slightly muffled through the door.
"Oh. Yeah, I guess," Taiven replied in a more gentle tone. The door opened to reveal a little boy of nine with dark blonde hair and big green eyes. His servant's attire was too big for his scrawny form, which resulted in the collar of his shirt hanging off one shoulder. A piece of rope was tied around his waist so his pants wouldn't fall down. The boy smiled at him, revealing a few missing teeth.
"Hey Cale. Lost another tooth, did you?" Taiven observed. Cale's smile widened.
"Yep! And I got another one growin' in right here," he said while pointing to a gap between his front tooth and canine. Taiven gave him a halfhearted smile. "So, what's the matter?" Cale asked timidly. "I heard your door slam from all the way across the castle and was just wonderin' what happened." Taiven's expression hardened.
"It's nothing, Cale. Don't worry about it," he replied, his voice mimicking his features.
"Come on, Taiven. I know you well enough to know that it's not 'nothing'," Cale said. Taiven remained silent. "Did you and the King get in another fight?"
Giving up, Taiven answered, "Yeah. He called me worthless and threatened my life . . . again."
"Oh." Cale looked down at his feet. "Um, Taiven?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't think you're worthless," he said, glancing up.
"I know. Thanks, Cale," Taiven said, giving him a genuine smile. The boy's eyes shined. "You'd better get back to your duties before you get into trouble." Cale nodded and shut the door behind him as he left.
Taiven smiled to himself. He always felt better after a visit from Cale. He knew that the boy looked up to him. He was the only role model Cale had. Cale's father was a military man, but he died in a battle before Cale was born and his mother didn't live much longer. He was forced to fend for himself at but five years old and was found wandering the streets until being sold to Galbatorix's possession. Taiven took the boy under his wing, showing compassion inherited most likely from his mother, who died when Taiven was quite young, feeling that the boy and he had much in common. They've been like brothers ever since.
Minutes after Cale left, another knock was heard. This time though, Taiven answered it himself, thinking it was Cale again.
"I told you to— Oh." Taiven looked upon a servant several years older than he, yet Taiven was still slightly taller. The man met his gaze. Unlike Galbatorix, Taiven didn't have a reason to be feared. Besides, no one actually knew that he was the King's son. Galbatorix made sure of that. Taiven was only viewed as another one of the King's soldiers in his armed forces.
"His majesty would like to see you," the man said. Taiven sighed.
"Very well," he replied. I wonder what my punishment is going to be today, he thought as the servant led him to the throne room.
What do you think? Sorry if it's a little slow; it'll become more intense in the next chapter. Thanks for reading!
Review, please. :)