A/N: There aren't enough Nasuada/Eragon stories on this site, so I decided to write my own. :) I love the two of them together-as friends and otherwise. I meant this as a one-shot, but it might go on longer, depending on stuff.

Disclalimer: I do not own the Inheritance Cycle or any of the characters in this story, except Draices (stupid name, I know).

Eragon lifted his hand in greeting. He was smiling. Brightly.

Nasuada couldn't help but smile as well as she raised her hand in return. Sometimes Eragon was just so…innocent. It was refreshing really. She missed the days when she had been so carefree, and she loved the fact that Eragon, who was even younger than she was and had the weight of the world on his shoulders, still managed to smile somehow.

There was a gust of artificial wind as Saphira landed with her characteristic flourish, flicking her tail with self-satisfaction. Eragon nimbly climbed down from Saphira's back and ran over to his liege-lord, moving faster and lighter than any human could ever aspire to. When he was level with Nasuada he bowed, his hand twisted over his chest. "My lady," Eragon lifted warped brown eyes to look at her. "What brings you out here this time of day?" It was almost dusk, the sun was setting out over the distant hills and the sky was a fiery red that glinted off of Saphira's scales.

"Nothing particularly interesting." Replied Nasuada, keeping her voice calm. "I was just getting some fresh air." It was true. She was just getting some fresh air. She was also getting a much needed break from Varden affairs. Her head throbbed slightly—the council of elders had been particularly stubborn that day, and a soldier by the name of Draices had come back from a raid only to find his tent completely ransacked. He had been furious, and it had taken Nasuada the better part of an hour to calm him down. She did not know who had done it, but she had a sneaking suspicion it was the same person who had been leaving chicken carcasses in the Urgals' armor. Whoever it was, he (or she) was causing her a great deal of strife.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Asked Eragon.

Nasuada blinked, surprised, "Not at all."

Eragon offered her his arm, which she took, and they proceeded to walk around the perimeter of the Varden's camp, Nasuada's Nighthawks trailing behind. Nasuada's mind drifted as she wondered vaguely if her guards ever tired of following her around. Quite suddenly Nasuada snapped out of her reverie, realizing that Eragon had spoken to her.

"Forgive me. What did you say?" Nasuada asked.

"I only commented that you seem tired." Eragon seemed concerned.

Is it that obvious? "A little." Nasuada admitted. She noticed that it had grown dark (the lanterns were casting a warm glow from the camp), and they were coming back to the place where they had started. Nasuada frowned. She didn't want to go back just yet.

"You know, it might do you some good to spend some time each day just relaxing." Eragon said. "It won't do the Varden any good if your head explodes from exhaustion."

Nasuada laughed at this.

Eragon was confused. "What's so funny?"

Nasuada waved a hand at him. "Nothing, nothing. It's just that Orrin said something similar to me a while ago."

"Did he?" Asked Eragon slightly distracted.

"Yes." Nasuada grimaced as she recalled her most recent interaction with Surda's king. It seemed they were developing a pattern: Orrin would say something inappropriate, she would chide him (perhaps a little too disdainfully, if she was being completely honest), and he would become indignant. She didn't remember him being this sensitive from their childhood. Then again, she hadn't had a lot of chances to offend him in his childhood—he was always so busy with his duties as prince. It must be the stress that's getting to us both. And the fact that he's afraid I'm trying to usurp him.

"How would you like to do something fun?" Asked Eragon suddenly, grinning mischievously.

"Fun?" Nasuada raised an eyebrow. "What exactly do you have in mind?"

"I don't believe," said Eragon, with the air of someone who was enjoying himself, "that you have ever ridden on the back of a dragon before."

Nasuada's eyes widened as she took a step back. "I don't think that's the best idea…"

Eragon grinned. "Frightened?"

Nasuada opened her mouth to deny the charge, but realized she could not. Instead she said, "I don't think Saphira would want me riding on her anyway."

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind," said Eragon. His eyes lost focus for a fraction of a second, and then he smiled. "No, she doesn't."

"Eragon, it's dark. We won't be able to see a thing. We could fly into a tree or something."

"Saphira and I have excellent vision, my lady. We will do all the seeing for you."

Nasuada bit her lip. "It's late. I need to sort out a few more things before I retire for the night."

Eragon studied her. "But you don't want to go back just yet, do you?"

How did he know? Am I really that easy to read? Nasuada sighed, having run out of excuses. Not wanting to seem like a blatant coward, she reluctantly agreed saying, "If I die, I am holding you personally responsible, Eragon."

Eragon smiled and bowed, twisting his hand over his chest in the elvish sign of fealty once more. "Never fear, my lady. You are safe with me." Nasuada grimaced. She trusted Eragon of course, and Saphira as well. However, that trust didn't displace the uneasiness that churned in her gut.

Nasuada turned to the Nighthawks, informed them of her intentions, and instructed for them to wait for them here. They consented, knowing that she would be safe with the Dragon Rider.

Saphira appeared then, apparently unprompted, and projected her thoughts to Nasuada. You wish to grow wings, Nightstalker? I understand. How you two-leggers bear to be stranded on the ground is beyond me.

Nasuada couldn't help but smile. Maybe this won't be as bad as I fear. She noticed Eragon staring at her thoughtfully. She blinked, looked down, and realized that she would have a hard time riding on Saphira's back in a dress. Hmm.

"Let me change into something more fitting." Nasuada said, turning back. As she made her way back to her pavilion, she felt a certain guilt tug at her conscious for wasting time she could be using to aid the Varden. But now she felt very excited at the prospect of riding Saphira. Isn't everyone telling me to do something just for me every now and then? I am doing just that.

Nasuada changed as quickly as she could with the aid of her maid, Faricia, into a pair of leggings and tunic she normally wore in battle. Eragon was waiting for her when she returned, leaning against Saphira's flank, arms crossed and eyes closed. He looked peaceful in the dim light, the sharp angles of his face illuminated by the light spilling from the camp. Saphira blinked one large eye at her and Eragon opened his eyes a moment later.

He must be tired as well. "I am here." Nasuada said.

Eragon favored her with another one of his smiles. "Good."

He seems to be full of those tonight. Nasuada noted. I wonder what has him so happy.

Climbing onto Saphira's back was more difficult than Nasuada imagined, and she was glad that there was no one—save for Saphira, Eragon, and her guards—around to witness her embarrassing struggle. As it was, Nasuada was only able to climb onto the saddle with Eragon's help. Nasuada flushed and was grateful no one would be able to tell.

Eragon climbed on in front of her after securing the leg straps around Nasuada's legs.

"Ready?" He asked, turning to look at her.

"As I'll ever be." Nasuada said, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Saphira says to hold on tight."

With a great whoosh they left the ground far behind, Saphira's wings batting against the air were deafening and Nasuada felt both exhilarated and terrified as they rose higher and higher. As Nasuada's panic began to subside, she realized she was squeezing Eragon too tightly and, sheepish, loosened her hold slightly. Very slightly. The wind rushing into her face and through her hair disoriented her, as did the sight of the Varden's camp growing smaller by the second. It was all very foreign and frightening to her, yet Nasuada felt freer than she had felt in a very long time.

Eragon let out a yell of pure joy as Saphira went into a small dive and Nasuada screamed bloody murder, but the sound was ripped from her throat. As Saphira pulled out of the dive, Nasuada found that she was laughing uncontrollably, her nerves severely frayed, but her heart as light as a feather. Eragon laughed too, though whether it was with her or at her she wasn't sure. She preferred to think it was with her.

"Is this what it's like to be a Dragon Rider?" Nasuada asked, somewhat awed.

Eragon chuckled. "You don't know the half of it."

Nasuada smiled and she rested her head on Eragon's shoulder, watching the dimly lit countryside slide by beneath them. She felt at ease, despite the height at which they flew. She suspected it had something to do with her great faith in Eragon and Saphira. So far from the familiar world of the Varden, Nasuada's problems seemed to have been left behind her on the ground. So high up in the sky, it was almost possible to ignore her worries about the Varden, King Galbatorix, the Empire, and a certain red Rider. I could do this forever.

Nasuada wasn't sure how long they flew, but she didn't care. Now her world consisted of the three of them—her, the last free dragon in Alagaesia, and her Rider. Nasuada started, realizing with a smile that both she and Saphira could claim Eragon as "her rider." She could because of Eragon's pledge to her, and Saphira could because of their bond. It made Nasuada laugh—the thought had never occurred to her before, and even though it wasn't particularly funny, it was an odd one. Eragon glanced back at her, eyebrow cocked.

Nasuada just shook her head. "It's nothing."

Eventually Saphira began to descend in a graceful spiral towards the camp again. Nasuada gripped Eragon's waist tightly once more, the descent making her stomach flip several times. When they had landed Eragon helped her down as he had helped her up, releasing her from his hold only when both her feet were safely planted on the ground.

"Thank you very much Eragon." Nasuada said. "Thank you, Saphira, as well."

Saphira touched her snout to Nasuada's forehead. You are very welcome.

"Sleep well, my lady, Nasuada." Eragon bade her quietly, calling her by her name for once.

"Sleep well, Eragon." Nasuada watched the two of them depart to Eragon's tent as her six Nighthawks joined her.

"Ready for bed, my lady?"

Nasuada's smile faded slightly. "No, not yet. There are still some things I need to get done. But let's go back to my pavilion, shall we?"

As they turned to go, Nasuada heard the patter of feet behind her. Instinctively she reached into her tunic to grasp the hilt of her dagger, and her guards drew their swords around her and turned, ready to defend her to the death…

But it was only Eragon. Panting.

He jogged right up to her (her guards made room for him) stopping jerkily less than a foot away.

"Perhaps, tomorrow…if you're not busy that is…would you like to…to fly with me—and Saphira of course—again?" Eragon flushed as he finished his question. His face was much too close to hers, and his breath wafted over her face. It was warm and oddly sweet smelling.

Nasuada debated with herself briefly, but the look on Eragon's face decided for her. "I'd love to."

Eragon beamed and Nasuada couldn't help but smile in return.

Just as a side note: reviews make better authors! (And I would definately like to improve.) Thanks for reading. :)