A/N: I recommend first reading The Bald Soprano by Eugène Ionesco.
The moon was high in the Ellesmere sky but Eragon could not rest, for he was worried. He worried how he would ever be strong enough to fight Galbatorix - Galbatorix, who had energy and time and power, who was surrounded by incalculable wards and defenses, and who was nigh invincible. A maddening despair dug in to him, viciously infecting his mind. Eragon tried to clear his thoughts, and sat down to meditate.
He heard the hooting of owls and the tinkling insects and then he heard a soft rustle. He smelled the tall trees and the nectar of the flowers and then a subtle perfume. He felt the minds of the birds and the cats and also something else. Eragon opened his eyes to find an elf, who had slipped into the room unannounced, sitting in front of him. She touched two fingers to her lips and inclined her head. For a moment, they looked on silence, each smiling timidly at each other. Then Eragon broke the silence.
"Excuse me, Svit-kona, but it appears, unless I'm sorely mistaken, that I've met you somewhere before."
"And I too, Shur'tugal," she whispered, "It seems to me that I've met you somewhere before."
"Was it, by chance, at Gil'ead that I caught a glimpse of you, Svit-kona?"
Her face darkened. "That is quite possible. I was imprisoned in Gil'ead. But my memories fade, Shur'tugal. I cannot say where it was that I caught a glimpse of you or not"
"That is bizzare, for I, too, was imprisoned in Gil'ead."
"That is curious indeed." They made eye contact, and Eragon felt pinned by the elf's piercing gaze. He blinked twice.
"Only, I, Svit-kona, escaped from the prison of Gil'ead about eleven months ago."
"How truly curious that is. What a coincidence then, it must be, that I too, Shur'tugal, escaped from the prison of Gil'ead eleven months ago."
Eragon placed his hand on her's. The warm flesh beneath him trembled as the elf recalled the terror and pain she had recieved at the hands of Durza. A tear rolled down her face.
"Svit-kona, I then traveled across the Hadarac Desert until I found refuge with the Varden."
"It must be a coincidence then, that I too, crossed the Hadarac desert and found refuge with the Varden. And after I came to Tronjheim, I fought in the battle of Farthen Dûr."
"What a coincidence, for I also fought during the battle of Farthen Dûr, and in the midst of this battle, Svit-kona, I fought the shade Durza alongside an elf"
"How curious for I too, fought Durza, alongside a Rider."
They leaned in closer now, and there was emotion in their eyes, and their voices grew softer and softer.
"Perhaps there, there is where we met, Svit-kona."
"Perhaps so, but I cannot recall. It is indeed possible, Shur'tugal, that there is where we've met."
And with that, the elf bent even lower and lovingly kissed Eragon.
They sat without speaking then, until the sun came and its warm rays entered the room and lit their faces. Eragon slowly stood, his voice quivering slightly. "Then, Svit-kona, I believe there cannot be any doubt about it, we have met before and you are my dearest lover ... Arya, I have found you again!"
Arya stood, then stumbled over and fell into his arms. "Eragon! It's you, my sweetheart."
At last, Arya lowered her defenses, and Eragon tenderly enveloped her mind with hers, and they explored each other together. He plunged deep within her consciousness, following the faint chords of music that emanated from the darkest recesses. Arya sighed, and surrendered to the intimate embrace, letting Eragon take all control, bathing in the comfort of someone whom she could trust with her deepest secrets. An intoxicating warmth swept over Eragon as he affectionately held her. The a burst of magic involuntarily erupted from his gedwëy ignasia, bonding and uniting them, and a wave of passionate love washed over them, and still wrapped around each other, Arya and Eragon drifted off into their dreams as one.