A Twist Of Fate A Percy Jackson and Eragon Crossover

Jeod

Percy's Point of View

Roran was still trying to get the butler to let us meet Jeod, he said,

"Our stay in Teirm is too brief for us to arrange a proper meeting."

"Ah, well, then I regret to say that your time would have been better spent elsewhere. My master has many matters to tend. He cannot devote himself to every group of ragged tramps that bangs on his door, asking for handouts," said the butler. He exposed even more of his glassy teeth and began to go back inside.

"Wait!" cried Roran. "It's not handouts we want; we have a business proposition for Jeod."

The butler raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Aye, it is. Please ask him if he will hear us. We've traveled more leagues than you'd care to know, and it's imperative we see Jeod today."

"May I inquire as to the nature of your proposition?"

"It's confidential."

"Very well, sir," said the butler. "I will convey your offer, but I warn you that Jeod is occupied at the moment, and I doubt he will wish to bother himself. By what name shall I announce you, sir?"

"You may call me Stronghammer." The butler's mouth twitched as if amused by the name, then he slipped behind the door and closed it.

"If his head were any larger, 'e couldn't fit in the privy," muttered Loring out the side of his mouth. Nolfavrell uttered a bark of laughter at the insult and I had to admit that I also found it slightly amusing.

Birgit said, "Let's hope the servant doesn't imitate the master."

A minute later, the door reopened, and the butler announced, with a rather brittle expression, "Jeod has agreed to meet you in the study." He moved to the side and gestured with one arm for them to proceed. "This way."

We followed the butler until we reached Jeod's study. When I entered the room the first thing, I noticed were the many books that sat on the shelves, that immediately made me think of Annabeth, but I quickly shoved that thought aside and instead focused my gaze on the man who I assumed was Jeod. He was tall and had graying hair. He clearly looked tired, His face was lined, careworn, and sad, and when he turned toward us, I could see that a scar gleamed white from his scalp to his left temple. "Do sit," said Jeod. "I won't stand on ceremony in my own house." "May I offer you pastries and a glass of apricot brandy? I cannot talk for long, but I see you've been on the road for many a week, and I well remember how dusty my throat was after such journeys."

Loring grinned. "Aye. A touch of brandy would be welcome indeed. You're most generous, sir."

"Only a glass of milk for my boy," said Birgit.

"Of course, madam." Jeod rang for the butler, delivered his instructions, then leaned back in his chair. "I am at a disadvantage. I believe you have my name, but I don't have yours."

"Stronghammer, at your service," said Roran.

"Mardra, at your service," said Birgit.

"Kell, at your service," said Nolfavrell.

Although something told me we could trust Jeod I also told him a fake name. I blame Mr. D for calling me it most of the time because peter was the first one that popped into my head.

"And I'd be Wally, at your service," finished Loring.

"And I at yours," responded Jeod. "Now, Rolf mentioned that you wished to do business with me. It's only fair that you know I'm in no position to buy or sell goods, nor have I gold for investing, nor proud ships to carry wool and food, gems and spices across the restless sea. What, then, can I do for you?"