"I think we better properly introduce ourselves," Nia spoke up. Her brothers looked at her in surprise, and she nodded to them in return. "Our identities will open many questions and speculations, as well as doubts. We will, of course, confirm them in the ancient language so you you can be sure that we tell the truth."

Niaomi bowed, keeping her head raised so that she could examine their expressions as she stated, "As I said before, I am known as Niaomi Dragonseer - the sole daughter of Niom Ajihadsson and Leafë Dröttningu."

There was dead silence as they all absorbed her words. As the meaning became clear to Eragon, he looked towards Arya and Nasuada, who stood still in astonishment. The elf's hand was gripping her hilt tightly, and the other woman's hands fisted as she finally choked out, "You're lying."

Nia smiled ruefully and repeated herself in the ancient language. Arya was shaking her head, eyes wild with fear and astonishment.

Eragon, worried, went to her and touched her. She flinched at the contact and looked at him with pained eyes. "Calm down," he whispered in the ancient language, squeezing her shoulder gently. "They shall explain themselves."

At least, he hoped they would; he had no idea what was going on himself. Ajihad had a son? And Arya - a sister? But she had told him that she had none...

In response to his words, Arya released her sword and nodded, swallowing hard before regaining composure. Nasuada was just staring at Niaomi, eyes wide with the implications that her parentage brought on. If her father was truly her own father's son, then that would make the young woman and her brothers a part of her own family. Eragon knew from experience how jolting it was to discover blood ties you'd never before believed to have existed.

"So...wait," said Orrin, his eyes narrowed as he looked from Niaomi to Nasuada. "Are you saying you are related to Nasuada?"

Nia nodded, her eyes never leaving Nasuada's face. "Lady Nasuada is my aunt. Her brother was my father."

Nasuada gasped, her hand covering her mouth. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she whispered, "Niom."

Niaomi smiled sadly. "I was named after him, being the first born. Of course, he and my mother changed it to suit a girl. You know your people's customs, my lady."

Orrin put an arm around Nasuada in an uncommon display of comfort. She leaned against his shoulder, her face obscured, in an equally uncommon display of weakness. "I think we should bring this inside," he said, turning to the pavilion. Looking back at Eragon, he said, "Could you fashion some more flaps for the other dragons?"

Eragon nodded and bowed as the king turned away, murmuring gently to Nasuada. Despite his curiosity at the king's behavior, he turned his attention to the tent, quickly reciting the same spell he had used to make Saphira's flap. The tent sides rippled as the spell took effect.

"Is my sister really your mother?" asked Arya in the ancient language as the two rulers entered the pavilion.

"Yes," Nia replied in the same tongue, gesturing towards her brothers. "Leafë was Nathan's and Nicholas's mother as well."

Arya stared at the ground, her muscles tensing. "And is she still..."

Niaomi looked away, pain in her eyes. Shaking her head, she whispered, "No."

For a moment, no one moved. Then Arya let out a shuddering breath before striding into the tent.

Eragon looked at the elves. They were all staring at the violet-eyed Rider with a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and sadness on their faces.

He then looked towards Nia. She was staring hard at the ground, clenching and unclenching her ringed fingers. He walked up to her and touched her shoulder.

"It'll be alright," Eragon said.

Niaomi looked up, her eyes shining. She blinked a few times before nodding. "I think it's time to enter the pavilion."

As she walked to the tent behind the others, she turned and placed her hand on Eragon's cheek. Looking into his eyes, she whispered "Thank you," before slipping inside.

Eragon put his hand to the place where she touched him, feeling the blood rise in his cheeks. For some unknown reason, a smile bloomed on his face, and he followed her in.

____________________________

Eragon sat in a chair beside Arya, as his former seat was now occupied by Orrin. The chairs had been squeezed into a tighter circle to make room for the extra five dragon heads that laid inside the tent. Nasuada had long since regained calm and now looked at the Riders, her face closed. "Well, let's finish the introductions."

The Riders glanced around, each one looking at Nia, who in turn nodded at Nate.

He rose, bowing. "I am Nathan Ramriarel, younger brother to Niaomi."

Nick spoke next. "And I am Nicholas Vanyaweoh, the youngest triplet."

After he sat down, Rose stood. "I am Rosaminda Konaeldheill, daughter of Belinda the Beautiful and Beloth the Wise." She looked at Eragon. "My father is the reason we have these belts like your own."

"Beloth is still alive?" he asked, shocked.

The blonde grimaced and said, "Nay."

After a lengthy pause, her twin stood and bowed as well. "I am Renata Svit-osthato, older twin sister to Rosaminda."

"How old are you all?" Arya inquired.

"We are all nearing seventeen," Ren answered.