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Since i have nothing new to post ill post some older art i like. These were made in early december 2024. It's my most recent nice art of Nasuada and Murtagh from the Inheritance cycle.
“Nasuada was waiting for him by a row of three flagpoles. She had changed since they had parted and now wore a light summer frock, the color of pale straw. Her dense, mosslike hair she had piled high on her head in an intricate mass of knots and braids. A single white ribbon held the arrangement in place. She smiled at Eragon. He smiled in return and quickened his pace.
Her wit, her gaiety, and the thoughtfulness of her remarks charmed him. It was easy for him to talk to her and easier to listen, and that very ease caused him to realize how much he cared for her… Aside from his aunt Marian, of whom he had but faint memories, he had grown up in a world of men and boys, and he had never had the opportunity to be friends with a woman. His inexperience made him uncertain, and his uncertainty made him awkward, but Nasuada did not seem to notice.”
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“The likeness was an uncanny one. So skilled was it, Murtagh felt sure magic had been used in its creation. The sight of Nasuada's all-too-familiar profile— proud and perfect in resplendent relief, with a modest diadem upon her brow—set a familiar ache in his heart, and he touched the image with hesitant fingers.” (Murtagh, 193)
*I tried to make one of the crowns with Nasuada on them*
Losing my mind because I was looking at old wips and found these headshots of Arya and Nasuada from the Inheritance cycle that I made THREE years ago. I feel like my art in 2022 was peak and I really need to bring back that vibe omg. I swear I could not make these again today my style dumbed down sm
anyways where's my eragon fam at
no no i'm serious if you read these books you're legally obliged to tell me exactly who was your favorite character and why. and if it's not eragon well.... we are going to have some problems (jk please i'm begging let me know)
“As my father did before me, I give my life to you and our cause. I will never cease fighting until the Urgals are vanquished, Galbatorix is dead, and Alagaësia is free once more.”
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do you think nasuada will become a dragon rider?? I love eragon theories
Hmmm not sure. Apparently Arya being queen and rider will cause problems since riders are supposed to be separated from that power. Nasuada also being a rider would be repetitive. Probably not since she seems busy with political issues in Ilirea. She also never expressed interest in being a rider and I think she enjoys being ‘human’. Her lack of magical powers definitely makes her unique in the world of Eragon, CP will likely keep it that way.
I didn't catch the pattern of who becomes a rider, idk if it's at random or an inherited trait? (If you know anon let me know) We don’t know who her mom is yet. Maybe one of her kids will be a rider in the future, who knows
Character Study · Nasuada · 530 words · Mention of torture
Nasuada takes inventory and reflects on the state of her life in the bath. The High Queen of the Broddring Kingdom longs for peace and family. The water goes cold, and she doesn't call for more.
The water has gone cold. She hasn't called for more.
Everyone else needs sleep. And the cold is useful. It keeps her sharp when everything else wants to soften.
She started doing this after the coronation. Taking stock. She has a better word for it now: inventory. What magic did to her body, and what it didn't. She does it in the bath because the bath is the one place she can be certain she is alone. She checked the stone herself.
The iron first.
Most people would say Murtagh burned me. She can't afford that. The iron was the instrument. Magic was the mechanism. Her body was a variable the spell wasn't designed to account for. Her wanting was irrelevant. She runs this until it loses its teeth.
It never entirely does.
The burrow grub. She doesn't stay here.
The pain spell.
Her mind pauses. Routes around it.
She lets it.
The council ran three hours long today. Vethon was in the room the entire time. She spent those three hours tracking the particular quality of the air around a mind with power in it. She removed him from the oversight committee last month. She hasn't worked out the next step. There is always something she hasn't worked out yet.
She was in the gardens this afternoon. Reading on the bench by the fountain, which passes for leisure these days. Two girls from the lower court walked past, fifteen or sixteen, heads bent together. She couldn't hear what they were saying. Only the laughter. Something about a lord at court.
She felt something move through her that took a moment to name.
Older than jealousy. Quieter.
The ache of recognizing something you didn't receive and understanding you can't go back for it.
She grew up without a mother. No one to teach her the ordinary things. Her father loved her. She knew it the way you knew a fixed star, reliable, distant, something to navigate by. But there were things he didn't know how to give her. And things the Varden never left room for. By the time she understood what was missing she was already standing in a council meeting, her father three days dead, a leadership no one had asked her if she wanted.
She picked it up. She doesn't regret it.
She only notices, sometimes, that no one asked.
Eragon is gone. Her father is gone. And Murtagh left.
She tried to carry the weight of that alongside everything else. She had nothing left for it. It wasn't grief exactly. More like arriving at a door and finding the room behind it empty.
She closed it. She's good at that.
She presses her hand flat against the water.
Cold. Still. Real.
She deserved more than she was given. She allows herself this in the dark, with no face to arrange for anyone. A mother. A girlhood. The ordinary disasters of a young woman figuring herself out when being wrong didn't cost anyone anything.
She didn't receive those things.
She received this throne instead.
She stands. Reaches for the linen. Dries her hands first, always her hands first. Then her forearms.
Nine scars in the lamplight. The last one on the right longer than the rest, where the knife went sideways. The ones on the left even and deliberate.
She chose those.
She holds onto that more than she holds onto most things.
She dresses. Goes back to her desk. Lights the lamp. Opens the ledger to the southern grain accounts.
Outside, Ilirea breathes in the dark. She reads until morning.
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👑 nonprofit girlie, restructured the org in first 18 months
💀 military kid. moved 9 times. no real home
🩸 always short sleeves. loves showing off her scars
👑 only wears luxury fashion, but never gaudy logos
🗡️ international relations major, political science minor, went to law school anyway because she "wanted to understand the system" she secretly just enjoys arguing with people
💀controversial boyfriend did a brief stint in jail for unknown reasons, her dad arrested him and she paid the bail
👑 eragon is her little work bestie, he texts her at 2am about ethics
💀 arya is her older mentor who has seen everything and judges nothing
🩸 babysat elva on weekends in college, elva says unsettling things the whole time but nasuada just keeps showing up
🗡️ cops know her by name. no one ask why
🩸 her "focus" playlist is literally just classical music and one indie rock album
"To me, men of the Varden! Fight to win back your homes. Fight to guard your wives and children! Fight to overthrow Galbatorix! Attack and bathe your blades in the blood of our enemies! Charge!"
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