Eragon hasn't come out in days, thought Arya. She remembered the conversation with her mother, from two days ago, vividly.
"Have I errored?" She had asked.
"No, but you might have been gentler with him," the Queen had sighed.
"I thought there was no other option," she had said shamefacedly.
"There is always more than one option," her mother had told her.
"But what!" Arya had wailed. "What could I do? Please help me mother, the guilt gnaws at my heart."
"You could have told him again; you could have walked away; you could have told him to wait for his own time." Her mother confided. "But instead you took matters into your own hands." That time her mother had sounded more scolding.
"Shall I go to him?" Arya had asked.
"I think you should wait for him to come out, the confide in him what sorrow you feel."
"Thank you mother." Arya had then walked away.
Now she waited outside his tree house, waiting, where she would stay until he emerged. It was now the fourth day of him not emerging. She waited, and would wait, until the next day.
The next day started the same as the others, but Arya somehow felt suspense. She knew, somehow, somewhere, that Eragon would come out today.
She was rewarded at nineteen minutes past ten o'clock. Eragon came out of the tree house and Arya gasped at the sight.
Short, I know, but I decided that I would get the first part out quickly, and then spend more time writing the later chapters. Read, Review, Critique.