((I'm so sorry, guys! I had this made already and I missed uploading it last Friday due to circumstances! I hope you enjoy this at least! And also, THANK YOU FOR THE UNBELIEVABLE RANKINGS HOLY SHIT-))

Error felt restless, waiting for the soldiers to return so he could leave and check on his family. Geno had teleported him off to their private rooms, Red agreeing to come with as added protection, because the guards struggled to cope with the shortcuts and he was a fantastic soldier on his own.
Error only stayed behind with Lust because he was technically the leader of the group and Lust wanted to stay by him as comfort. Something like that, he didn't know or care.
He wrung his hands and made to start stress knitting, bone needles clicking softly, almost drowned out by his fizzling glitches.

Finally Trianna came back, behind her a pair of soldiers dragging a limp human between them. By her command they dumped the dead body before them.
"We found the assassin where Elva said we would." Trianna explained. "Drail was his name."

Error snorted at it and returned to his work, a shawl rapidly forming out of his quick movements.
"How was he killed?" Nasuada asked curiously. "I see no marks on his body."
"He committed suicide with magic when we overwhelmed his defenses and entered his mind, but before we could take control of his actions."
"Were you able to learn anything of use before he died?"
"We were. Drail was a part of a network of agents based here in Surda who are loyal to Galbatorix. They are called the Black Hand. They spy on us, sabotage our efforts, and- best we could determine in our brief glimpse into Drail's memories- are responsible for dozens of murders throughout the Varden. Apparently, they've been waiting for a good chance to kill you ever since we arrived from Farthen Dûr."

Error had paused his knitting to listen in shock, sitting upright as Lust's eyesockets blanked.
"Why hasn't the Black Hand assassinated King Orrin yet?" Nasuada prompted.
The sorceress shrugged. "I can't say. It may be that Galbatorix considers you to be more of a threat than Orrin. If that's the case, then once the Black Hand realizes you are protected from their attacks"- She glanced at Elva. "- Orrin won't live another month unless he is guarded by magicians day and night. Or perhaps Galbatorix has abstained from such direct action because he wanted the Black Hand to remain unnoticed. Surda has always existed at his tolerance. Now that it's become a threat…"

Nasuada turned to the Starchild. "Can you protect Orrin as well?"
Her eyes seemed to glow like a skeleton's eyelights. "Maybe if he asks nicely."
Error peered at her thoughtfully as Lust tried catching his attention, Nasuada glancing over before addressing Trianna again.
"Can all of Galbatorix's agents use magic?"
"Drail's mind was confused, so it's hard to tell. But I'd guess a fair number of them can." Trianna responded, to which the woman seemed to think.

"Could I maybe help protect him?" Lust finally whispered to Error.
"You can't sense dangers intuitively."
"And you can?"
"I've had to learn."
"But you're already so busy-" "My armbands are also quite useful. I could give him something similar, but first we'd need to discuss the issue with him. I'll keep your suggestion in mind, though. You may not have the senses I do, but all of us are still much faster and stronger than any human or magician here. That, and you're more Determined than you seem to think."

He turned away before Lust could inquire further, Nasuada speaking again.
"Why didn't you discover this sooner? I can understand that you might miss a lone assassin, but an entire network of spellcasters dedicated to our destruction? Explain yourself, Trianna."
The sorceress seemed to glare briefly before responding evenly. "Because here, unlike in Farthen Dûr, we cannot examine everyone's minds for duplicity. There are just too many people for us magicians to keep track of. That is why we didn't know the Black Hand until now, Lady Nasuada."

Nasuada hesitated, then nodded. "Understood. Did you discover the identities of any other members of the Black Hand?"
"A few."
"Good. Use them to ferret out the rest of the agents. I want you to destroy this organization for me, Trianna. Eradicate them as you would an infestation of vermin. I'll give you however many men you need. And I've no doubt Lord Error will lend his support if you need it."
He inclined his skull. "Destruction is what I do best."
With a slightly excited gleam in her eyes, Trianna bowed. "As you wish, Lady Nasuada and Lord Error."

There was a knock at the door. All heads and skulls snapped in it's direction, guards drawing swords and arranging themselves at either side before the captain threw it open.
A young man stood at the other side, preparing to knock again when he immediately saw the body on the floor.
"What is it, boy?" The captain questioned, drawing his attention upward.
"I have a message for Lord Error and Lady Nasuada from King Orrin."
"Then speak and be quick about it." Nasuada ordered.

He hesitated, staring at the corpse before speaking. "King Orrin requests that you both attend him directly in his council chambers, for he has received reports from the Empire that demand your immediate attention."
"Anything else?" Error asked with a sigh.
"No, Sir."
"Then we must attend to this." Nasuada concluded. "Trianna, you have your orders. Captain, will you leave one of your men to dispose of Drail?"
"Aye, Ma'am."
"Also, please have him locate Farica, my handmaid. She will see to it that my study is cleaned."
"And what of me?" Elva inquired with a tilt of her head.
"You shall accompany me." Nasuada explained. "That is, if you feel strong enough to do so."
The little girl laughed coldly. "I'm strong enough, Nasuada. Are you?"
She ignored the response and faced Error.

He stood up slowly, putting his current work in his inventory and regarding Lust. "Since I have to go, could you check on my brothers for me?"
"Of course." The sexualized skeleton smiled kindly, standing as well before teleporting away. He sighed wearily before they all entered the hallway, walking quickly.

It brought Error a modicum of comfort seeing how comfortable Nasuada was in the dress he'd weaved; she was walking as though it were a fall day, her clothes exuding faint waves of cool air that the guards seemed to appreciate as well.

The men stayed behind in the lobby outside the council chambers as the trio continued ahead.
The main room was rather basic, a rough-hewn table in the center with knives pinning a map of Alagaësia to it's corners. Orrin sat at the head, his advisors seated along the sides, leaving the end open for one of the newcomers to sit.
"Sire, you asked for us?" Nasuada spoke first.

The king stood. "That I did. We have now-" His attention was cut short as he spotted Elva. "Ah, yes, Shining Brow. I have not had the opportunity to grant you audience before, though accounts of your feats have reached my ear and, I must confess, I have been most curious to meet you. Have you found the quarters I arranged for you satisfactory?"
"They are quite nice, Sire. Thank you." Her jaded, overly mature voice made everyone at the table flinch, the prime minister shooting to his feet.
"Why have you brought this… this abomination here?"

"You forget your manners, sir." Nasuada responded evenly.
The king frowned, obviously not as appreciative of the girl as he had been. "Yes, do restrain yourself, Irwin. However, his point is valid, Nasuada and Lord Error; we cannot have this child present at our deliberations."
"You think so?" Error replied quietly, staring down the king innocently.
"Why yes, it is unbecoming to allow-" He was cut off by sudden movement, or rather, a sudden change in location. Error had teleported to Elva's side, giving her a faint smile before facing the rest. Nasuada looked to him as though asking permission, which made sense when he had taken an injury to save her life.
He nodded slightly.

"The Empire just tried to assassinate me." Nasuada announced to the room, which enticed several people to cry out in shock.
"If it were not for Elva's swift action and Error's equally quick response, I would be dead. As a result, I have taken her into my confidence; where I go, she goes."
"This is indeed distressing news!" Orrin cried. "Have you caught the blackguard responsible?"
Nasuada made to answer, but paused upon seeing the faces of the crowd.
"It would be preferable to wait until the two of us can inform you in private." Error answered before she could speak. He could feel her gratitude even though she didn't look back at him.

"Very well. I apologise for the lack of two seats, as I have heard you do not appreciate them, Lord Error. However, if you would like to sit, I can order an extra produced-" Error snorted, interrupting the king.
"You heard correctly; I don't like your chairs." He pulled out a blue bean bag from his inventory and set it beside the chair, grinning widely at the disconcerted faces regarding him as he sat down.
It sure was fun to make people squirm with his strange antics. It was half the reason behind his behaviors, the reactions alone.

"Lord Error, that doesn't look to be a very respectable form of seating." Orrin explained awkwardly, sweating nervously.
"And when have I cared about looking respectable, Orrin? You all know that if things went my way, I'd forsake this royalty and politics and wars to go knit things in a cottage in the hills with my family. You know I'm perfectly respectful, if not a bit brash. And you know I'd offer these seats for you if you wanted them, I'm not flaunting because I only have them, I just prefer bean bags to these rickety hard chairs." He rapped on the seat of the chair beside him, glancing at Nasuada and proffering it for her to take.

"And being a skeleton, you know those things are terrible!" He smirked. "Unlike you humans who carry naturally occurring cushions around at all times, I have no ass to speak of."
A few short snorts and light snickers ran through the audience as they tried to conceal it.
"See? Your advisors get it. The irony of it is most worlds are designed without skeletons in mind, yet back home they were created by exactly that: a skeleton. Tell me that isn't ironic." My did he feel remarkably sociable today.
He really just wanted to see Fresh.

"Very well, you prefer your seating arrangement over our own. I will not pressure our cultures upon you, but please understand that I called you here for a very serious matter." There was a hint of a plea in his voice. Something about that nearly put a smile on Error's face.
A king begging him, when he had done nothing but place a beanbag down.
What a riot.

Nevertheless, he allowed a tired sigh to slip past his features. "I know, Orrin, I know. I wouldn't have come otherwise. Something has come up that I want to attend to because it is within my family. But because I respect you and understand that you'd only do this if it was important, I chose to join you here today. So let's get on with it before we waste any more time."
A certain kindness gentled Orrin's gaze before he straightened, ready to announce whatever they'd been called here for.

"It seems that our spies in Gil'ead have been deceived as to the status of Galbatorix's army."
Error blinked, leaning over the table as Nasuada spoke. "How so?"
"They believe the army to be in Gil'ead, whereas we have here a missive from one of our men in Urû'baen, who says that he witnessed a great host march south past the capital a week and a half ago. It was night, so he could not be sure of their numbers, but he was certain that the host was far larger than the 16 thousand that form the core of Galbatorix's troops. There may have been as many as a hundred thousand soldiers, or more."

There was a pause as it sunk in.
Shit. Error could only think.
"Can we trust your source?" Nasuada questioned.
"His intelligence has always been reliable."
"I don't understand." Nasuada continued. "How could Galbatorix move that many men without our knowing of it before? The supply trains alone would be miles long. It's been obvious the army was mobilizing, but the Empire was nowhere near ready to deploy."
Falberd, the fatty, slapped his meaty hand on the table with a thick slap. "We were outfoxed. Our spies must have been decieved with magic to think the army was still in the barracks in Gil'ead."

Nasuada's face went ashen as the blood drained away. "The only person strong enough to sustain an illusion of that size and duration-" "Is Galbatorix himself." Both Orrin and Error answered. They shared a look before Error's gaze drifted off to the side thoughtfully.

The prime minister leaned in. "The question now is how we should respond. We must confront this threat, of course, but in what manner? Where, when, and how? Our own forces aren't prepared for a campaign of this magnitude, while yours, Lady Nasuada and Lord Error- the Varden and Wyrdaí Islingrya- are already accustomed to the fierce clamor of war."
"What do you mean to imply?" Nasuada inquired suspiciously as Error sat up.
We risk our lives for yours?
"I made but an observation. Take it how you will."

Orrin spoke up. "Alone, we will be crushed against an army so large. We must have allies, as in the rest of the Wyrdaí Islingrya, and above all else we must have Eragon, especially if we are to confront Galbatorix. Nasuada, will you send for him?"
"I would if I could, but until Arya returns, I have no way to contact the elves or summon Eragon, unless Error chooses to help me."
They all faced him. Error regarded them all with mournful longing.
"He needs just a few more weeks." He spoke truthfully, not wanting to admit he couldn't bring the Rider and others back.
Wyrda weighed on his Soul.

"I'm sorry, Lord Error, but we simply do not have the time."
"You have time. Trust me on this, I've been watching them. You know how quickly they can arrive when they are finished."
"And you cannot speed that time further by bringing them here yourself?" Questioned the king, already abandoning the first question.
Error shook his skull. "I can't rob them of their journey through Alagaësia, they need to witness new locations so they can teleport themselves wherever they're needed. It's a necessary sacrifice, I tell you."
"Can you promise us they will return in time, Lord Error?" Nasuada asked.
He shuddered suddenly, turning to stare at her with wide sockets for a moment.

"Promise?" He asked. She nodded, fully aware of what that meant to Sanses. Any skeleton, really. Error took a shaky breath, studying the grain in the wood.
He peered up at those gathered around the room, confused faces ringing the table. He looked Orrin in the eyes and spoke slowly and carefully, choosing his words wisely.
"I promise that Eragon, Saphira, and Wyrdvrangr will return with the new factions of the Wyrdaí Islingrya.. in time to help us... in the battle of the…" He hesitated, pieces coming together in his mind, pieces he hadn't paid attention to until this moment.
"Battle of Du Völlar Eldrvarya."
Error sat back down suddenly, not sure when he stood. In his mind he already knew what that place was, and in a brief glance he confirmed that the advisors, king and leader of the Varden knew as well.
A blanket of silence fell over the meeting room.

It fortunately was broken by Orrin, who lifted a heavy voice to speak. "That leaves only the dwarves. Nasuada, I know you have been friends with Hrothgar for many years; will you send him a plea for help on our behalf? The dwarves have always promised they would fight when the time came."
She nodded. "Du Vrangr Gata has an arrangement with certain dwarf magicians that allows us to transfer messages instantaneously. I will convey your- our- request. And I will ask Hrothgar to send an emissary to Ceris to inform the elves of the situation so that they are forewarned, if nothing else." She glanced at Error, as if considering asking him to transmit the information directly to the Queen instead, but he was not forthcoming.

"Good." Orrin responded softly, before the notes of command colored his words once more. "We are quite a ways from Farthen Dûr, but if we can delay the Empire for even a week, the dwarves might be able to get here in time."
They all nodded, Error studying his armband thoughtfully as his mind drifted towards all the others he had made, counting down their current owners' positions on both sides of Alagaësia.

The meeting turned continually more somber as they discussed tactics, Error adding his family's and his own prowess to the table as they planned to take on a larger army.
Their best options were either let one of the gods fight Galbatorix with the aid of all the rest of the skeletons and magicians- including the dragons and Riders.
They often suggested Eragon go up against the king, but the offers were shot down due to how powerless the boy was in comparison to the great, terrible Galbatorix.
Error had a bad feeling throughout all of this, and it made him shudder.
Wyrda was telling him something, and he was struggling to decipher the message.

After a while they started moving towards somewhat lighter topics, yet arguing amongst themselves as they distributed responsibilities for the Varden, Surda, and even the Wyrdaí Islingrya in money.
The skeletons had been making money in their own ways.
Error owned a share of the Varden's earnings due to his involvement with their lace production.
Lust had been slowly obtaining coin through whatever means he had been doing.
It was enough for the Eldjierdar to support themselves, in spite of their reliance on the Varden.

At some point during the madness, Orrin produced a scroll from his belt to address Nasuada and Error.
"On a matter of finances, would you be so kind as to explain a rather curious item that was brought to my attention?"
"Of course."
"I'll do my best, Sire."
"I hold in my hand a complaint from the weaver's guild, which asserts that weavers throughout Surda have lost a good share of their profits because the textile market has been inundated with extraordinarily cheap lace- lace they swear originates with the Varden." He seemed stressed. "It seems foolish to ask, but does their claim have any basis in fact, and if so, why would the Varden do such a thing?"

Nasuada grinned as Error broke into a sharp laugh, snickering as the woman responded. "If you remember, Sire, when you refused to lend the Varden more gold, you advised me to find another way for us to support ourselves."
The king's eyes narrowed. "So I did. What of it?"
"Well, it struck me that while lace takes a long time to make by hand, which is why it's so expensive, lace is quite easy to produce using magic due to the small amount of energy involved. You of all people, as a natural philosopher, should appreciate that. By selling our lace here and in the Empire, we have been able to fully fund our efforts. The Varden no longer want for food and shelter."

Error recovered his voice as Orrin's face fell to utter shock and confusion, a king standing dumbfounded.
"And I've been adding my works in due to the tactical advantage it gives us all. I am aware of my surroundings through my strings, and they can easily be woven into any pattern and lace whatsoever without effort. I can spy on the happening within the Empire without any suspicion, because who would ever suspect their favorite clothes?"

There was a long pause as Orrin's mouth hung open.
"Lace?" He finally questioned in disbelief.
"Yes, Sire." Nasuada answered, Error stifling a giggle.
"You can't fight Galbatorix with lace!"
Error was too much in quiet stitches as Nasuada responded.
"Why not, Sire?"

Orrin took a moment to process this before he grumbled. "Because… because it's not respectable, that's why. What bard would compose an epic about our deeds and write about lace?"
Error hesitated, thinking about the horrific wars of the more modern AU's and their ways of making money as Nasuada countered.
"We do not fight in order to have epics written in our praise."
"Then blast epics! How am I supposed to answer the weaver's guild? By selling your lace so cheaply, you hurt people's livelihoods and undermine our economy. It won't do. It won't do at all."

Nasuada now smiled sweetly at the king, speaking pleasantly. "Oh dear. If it's too much of a burden for your treasury, the Varden would be more than willing to offer you a loan in return for the kindness you've shown us… at a suitable rate of interest, of course."
The council had luckily kept their cool, but Error wheezed with a sound like a train on a poorly recorded, glitchy video as Elva barked a loud laugh behind them.