Eragon stood at the forefront of his fellow riders, waiting for his friends to arrive. As silent, anxious moments passed, a ship finally arrived, carrying King Orik and his royal subjects. Him and Saphira greeted him joyfully and, for a while, spoke of all that Eragon and Saphira had accomplished and experienced after leaving. They spoke through mirror occasionally, but they had found much to their surprise that it got darker much quicker where Eragon and Saphira lived than it did in Alagaësia, so it was hard to time their conversations where one was not already sleeping or too busy to talk. Then, an hour later, Queen Nasuada arrived. Murtagh was still up north somewhere in Alagaësia, far from other civilizations—or so Eragon heard. And Roran and Katrina had passed into the void years ago. It was Queen Nasuada's second time being here actually, for the first was so that Eragon could elongate her life. She could now live to be at least two hundred years old, but she could still fall prey to diseases or be killed by a knife or mace.
At last, after what seemed like a very long time, Eragon saw a faint, green glimmer in the sky. His heart filled with love, and excitement, and nervousness and so many other emotions at the sight; as well as Saphira's. She let out a joyous, mighty roar, but stayed on the ground with Eragon instead of flying up to meet Fírnen in the skies. Eragon's excitement reached an overwhelming level as Arya and Fírnen approached, but he held it back. Then, with a giant thump Fírnen landed upon the grass. Arya untied herself from the saddle and leaped gracefully as ever off the giant green dragon. Fírnen immediately flung himself at Saphira, and her at him, and roaring all the while, they jumped into the sky together. Now Arya stood there looking only at Eragon, and Eragon only at her. Slowly, they began to walk toward each other and Eragon held his hand up to his mouth and made the elves traditional gesture of respect.
They reached each other, but before Eragon could speak first as he had intended Arya swept his hand aside, ignoring the gesture. She put her face inches from his and said, "It has been eighty years since you left, and I have had time to think. We have had time to think." She nodded towards Fírnen high above in the sky. "I understand now, Eragon… I love you."
That was all it took. Eragon responded by fiercely pressing his lips against hers. All those years of waiting and wondering and now the moment had finally arrived. It was even more than he had dreamed of. Those years of unfaltering love and desire that they had thought would never be had built up in them and now everything was being let out in this one kiss. Arya's hands snaked through Eragon's hair and Eragon wrapped his arms around her waist, and they forgot about everyone around them. Finally, they pulled their lips apart, but stayed in the same position, gazing into eachother's eyes. Whispering, for only Arya to hear, Eragon said, "Stay with me."
Arya smiled and replied, "Yes, Eragon, I will stay. Forever. Wiol ono." And their lips met once again, but this time slowly, for they had the rest of eternity to spend together.
