From the mind of Arya Drottingü…
Arya could feel the heat rising in her stomach; it was like a flood of water rushing over her in waves. Being with Faölin had never been this intense, or passionate. Arya had never imagined she would experience a feeling this strongly, and with Eragon of all people. Every time he touched her, she lost her mind, she let go of everything and all of her control vanished from her body. Arya was ready to give herself to him; she was ready to leave her whole life behind for this one night. Arya never thought the kisses he was trailing down her neck could make her scream. She put one hand at the back of his neck and the other snaked down to find the hem of his shirt; she pushed it up and together rid him of the ivory garment. Arya took in his muscled chest, the glistening tan of his skin, and she knew-without ever having a choice- that she would never want another man for as long as she lived. This night was fate; it was fate with a touch of destiny.
It wasn't long before Arya and Eragon had ridden each other completely of their clothes. In the flickering light from a lone candle, Arya looked into her lover's eyes, knowing she could lose herself in them.
" I want to open my mind to you."
She said, and watched with pleasure as Eragon's eyes widened in shock and then nodded in consent.
" I would be honored."
Arya closed her eyes and touched Eragon, pulling strength from the contact; enough to let down her carefully constructed barriers. She pulled away each layer and tentatively reached out with her mind to the warm golden walls that surrounded Eragon's.
" Let me in."
She whispered in his ear.
"Always."
He replied. Arya felt the walls evaporating, their minds quickly mingled. She shuddered with the force of the contact, her hands grasping Eragons strong biceps. They explored each other's minds; some parts were alien and repelled the other, while some were familiar memories that attracted the two consciousnesses like they were made for each other. The strange melodies of each intertwined to make the most beautiful sound either of them had ever heard.
Eragon slipped his hand under her back and pulled Arya so her stomach was touching his hard muscles. She gasped with arousal and he groaned. Not able to wait any longer, he plunged into her and she arched her back even more, feeling unprecedented pleasure.
It was still appeared to be night when Arya awoke, feeling feverish and dazed from her nigh of passion. The candle that had been burning had long since worn to a stub and had gone out. Through the open flap of the tent she could just glimpse the last few stars that would fade soon with the rising of the sun. The elf could feel her face flush with embarrassment…what if someone were to come looking for them? They would find the pair intimately trussed over a large, soft pelt of fur on top of Eragon's cot. It wasn't exactly an innocent position to be found in. She, Arya, was sprawled over Eragon's naked form, covering his extremities, but she herself was bare to the ass. She had to get off of him before he woke and get out of the camp. As wonderful as the night before had been, she needed some space – time to think things over.
Arya quickly dressed and silently slid out of the tent. She could see a faint light on the horizon that indicated dawn was not far off. Few people were awake, but she knew one person who must be, and she knew she needed to see that person more than anyone in the entire world. Only Angela could tell her what she wanted to know, tell her if she'd just made the incredibly stupid mistake she thought she had by sleeping with Eragon. Arya was still in shock at her actions. Intimacy was such a guarded and well-respected act amongst her people, not to be taken lightly – but that was what she had done. Within only a year and a half, she had practically thrown herself at the one person she had sworn to avoid, Eragon.
Arya continued to berate herself all the way across the sea of tents until she came to the witch's residence. As she had predicted, Angela was outside busily tending to the fire and mixing some bubbling, black mixture.
"Angela…?"
She looked up at the tall elf briefly and smirked at her disheveled appearance.
"Never expected you to be one for the walk of shame."
Arya blushed furiously, turning away in order to regain her composure.
"Angela, I need your help."
She looked up, this time with real curiosity.
"What can I do for you Princess?"
"I need you to tell me my future."
From the journal of Arya Drottingü…
It has been four months since I last saw Eragon. My stomach has distended to quite an irregular size during that time. I cannot think of the child that is growing inside of me. If I dwell on the nature of the thing growing in my abdomen, I will never do what I have to do because that will make it so much harder.
I have often heard that children can hear and understand voices from inside the womb less than halfway through the pregnancy. Because I travel alone and thus rarely speak, my child will not know my voice, and that is how it should be.
I had to stop my travels today because I felt something shift in my belly. My baby is moving, it's alive; I cried for hours. This is the first of many other firsts that I will miss after I arrive at my destination. I cannot help but think of the child inside me and I remember what Eragon was like that night. He was so sweet, passionate; will our child be like that someday? I'll never know. I was so in love with him, but it was wrong, what we did was wrong. Eragon is little more than a child and we have a war to fight. I had been selfish and I know I should have known better; no one can afford to be selfish in these times.
Today I am continuing my travels to the secret city. I hope I can remember the way. The movement in my stomach has grown more frequent, almost like the child is as anxious as I am. Does it know what is about to happen? Renchena Elda always told me I could ask for anything, I only hope that this isn't too much for her to accept. I need her more than I have ever needed anyone. She has to understand how important this is.
Today I am writing a letter to my baby, I have to explain why this will be it's life, why I'm not there. I don't know if he or she will ever read it – that will be up to it's parents- but I have to explain. I am coming slowly to realize that there is a life growing inside me, has a destiny that will never be intertwined with mine. The realization that this bump will be a real person is hitting me hard, I promised myself I wouldn't think about it, but here I am wishing I could be it's mother. I have to stop thinking about it. I have to stop.
I'm on my way back to Eragon, back to the war. I have left a little girl behind in the secret village, a beautiful baby girl. This is the most pain I have ever been in. This should never happen to anyone, our hearts weren't meant to withstand this much pressure. I have achieved the impossible; I have left behind the thing I love most in the entire world, Evarínya. My little star will always guide me through the rest of my life, guiding my actions and instilling the fear of death in me. After looking into my little baby's eyes, I know I have to live long enough to look into them one more time. She will guide my actions, guide my life, it belongs to her now… whether I know her or not she will be the single reason for me too keep Eragon and I alive. I want him to meet his daughter some day.
I arrived at the camp outside of Illyria today, I went to see Nasuada, and I saw Eragon from a distance. After being separated from him for almost a year, I forgot how beautiful he is, how powerful, and how amazing you feel in his presence, like lying in the sun. Whenever I look at him, all I can think of is our little girl. Our little girl is somewhere in the forest, I bet lovely a woman is watching her sleep right now. Maybe she doesn't love her yet, but she soon will and Evarínya will grow up to love her as well. I keep telling myself this is for the best, but how can so much pain be for the best?
Hundreds of Miles Away…
Renchena sat at her window contemplating the day that had changed the lives of the people in the village of Lunarí forever. It had been an ordinary day, when suddenly the birds from a nearby tree were startled out of their perches. It wasn't long before the occupants of Lunarí heard the pounding of a human's horse. Though the horse was not one of the ones that dwelt in Du Weldenvarden, no one could deny the splendor of the beast when it came in to sight, nor of it's royal rider. Renchena had almost not recognized her; she was so different from the dazzling young elf she had known nearly a century ago. Arya was still the most beautiful woman Renchena had ever seen, but there was something about her eyes… it had taken a moment, but the second the horse had come to a stop, Renchena had seen the cause for the change in the girl; she was carrying a child. Renchena feared for her, not even knowing the ramifications of what she saw. When Arya had gotten off the horse with some difficulty, Renchena had hurried to her and discovered she was very weak. It wasn't the months of travel that had weakened her though, Renchena had known that immediately; it was the reason she was here that was eating her alive.
Within the week, the princess had given birth the most beautiful baby girl the village had ever seen. Arya hadn't stayed long, just long enough to watch her daughter to sleep through the night. Renchena was now the one to watch the princess' little girl dream. From the moment Arya had rode into the village and showed the world her belly, Rechena had known that the child was special. Arya hadn't told her who the father was, but something seemed to have broken her and Renchena could only imagine who or what had done that.
From the mind of Eragon Shadeslayer…
Arya's absence had been like a knife in Eragon's heart - the past year had been beyond difficult and dangerous. There had been so many times when he had wished for her to be close. After that one night, Eragon had thought maybe there would be something more to happen between them, but she had disappeared the next day. He had gone to Nasuada the next morning when the space next to him had been empty. She had only been able to tell him that Arya had come to her early in the morning and told her she was going on an important mission and would be gone for at most a year. Eragon had been devastated and had immediately asked to go after Arya. Nasuada had of course denied him the chance, but she hadn't known why he was so eager to find.
So much had happened in her absence, and all of it needed Eragon's immediate attention, so he had kept her just under the surface of his conscious, boiling at a constant rate, ready to explode at any moment. He had kept her ever present in the back of his mind, and then one day, there she was. Arya was back and now she was avoiding him. Eragon had thought about her constantly for almost a year, waiting for the moment they would be reunited and she was running away from him. From the brief glances Eragon had been able to get from her, he saw that she wasn't the same Arya who had left him in his bed one morning; this Arya was much more alike to the Arya he had first met, the one that was traumatized, the one that was hurt and dying. Eragon had worried there was something wrong with her, but she didn't seem to be physically ill.
There is so much Eragon wanted to tell Arya, all the things she had missed, the development in his magic, the war; how much Saphira had grown, and all the politics that had fought micro battles within the Varden and among the elves. He wanted to tell her SO much but she just kept running away from him. What could have happened that would make her not even face him like an adult, like an ambassador? It couldn't have been that night, could it? Was he going to have to be the one to talk to her again? How could she be so responsible and forthright with everyone but him?
From the observations of a random soldier…
The day was going to be a hot one; the men were all at work around me polishing their armor. I was supposed to go see Lady Nasuada later in the afternoon, so my nerves were at an all time high. Sitting on a stool outside my tent, I watched the people pass by with gleaming swords, horses, crossbows, bundles of things and various other objects. There was such a flood of people that I nearly missed the only two who were really of interest. I hadn't seen them at first but there was a momentary break in the crowds and there they were, the elf and the dragon rider. The two were obviously engaged in intense conversation. I couldn't hear them, but before the crowds swallowed them again I did catch three words: I love you.
I was shocked to say the least, I had no idea that the rider and the ambassador had feelings for each other - it was not public knowledge. I became consumed with what I had heard, the three words playing over and over again in my mind. I had never been one for gossip, but this little tidbit snatched out of the life of the most important person in Alagäesia was consuming. It's easy to think of someone in power as invincible, as a figurehead, someone to be feared and worshiped, but when you catch a glimpse of their humanity, it is life altering. The person you have come to respect as a hero now has a totally new side to them, so you have to shift your perception and fit them into this new shape. I was excited and could barely wait to see lady Nasuada now; I wondered if they would be there, what else could I learn by seeing them?
From the diary of a Leader…
It's been a year to the day that Arya came to me early in the morning and told me of her secret mission. I still have no clue what that mission was, she was gone for a year just as she had said, but she still won't tell me anything. All I know is that something happened while she was gone, and now she's not the same. I want my friend and advisor back, but she's still far away. I need her in the days to come, and I can't use her if she's not "present". Something has to give, she has to snap out of it and so does Eragon. He has been so anxious the past year, asking me almost everyday if I had heard from Arya. Everyday my heart broke a little more to see the look on his face when I had to tell him for the millionth time that I hadn't heard a word. What had she done to my dragon rider? What had Eragon done to my Elven ambassador?
From the journal of Arya Drottingü…
The days leading up to the battle for Illyria were filled with uncertainty and stress for the whole encampment. Eragon had finally caught up with me, and told me that he loved me. Those simple words, I love you, well, he was the only one to have ever told me them. If I wasn't already way over the edge, I would have fallen off it and broken my neck. Eragon was apparently not just IN love with me, but he LOVES me. That's a revolutionary concept in my life that I am not prepared for. No one has ever loved me like that, not even Faolin expressed the kind of feelings Eragon claims to have for me. I know my mother cares for me, and my people respect me, more than I deserve, but no one has ever REALLY loved me. I'm not sure how I feel about him, but I know I will never love anyone as much as I love that little child who is somewhere in Du Weldenvarden.
With everything that has come up between Eragon and I, I feel like maybe I should tell him everything…but every time I catch glimpse of that dark city, I remember that we have a job to do. If Eragon and I are going to survive this, he will have to trust me implicitly and not be caught up thinking about Evarínya or myself. Maybe if we win, if we survive and somewhere down the road when everything calms down, there will be a reason to tell him, maybe…maybe me telling him THEN won't blow up in our faces…
From the mind of a child in the secret Village…
My name is Evarínya Tivídar. Renchena tells me I am the best-kept secret in all of Alagäesia.
A/N: This was just a short story of some strung together views about a possible future for Eragon and Arya, I did not try to make it overly realistic but I tried to stay true to their characters. I hope you liked it!