Disclaimer: I do not own the Inheritance Cycle. If I did...well, things would be much different. It all belongs to Christopher Paolini.

Ramblings with Ranger: This is a tag to my story Overcome. I don't suppose you have to have read it to understand it, but it may help. A while back, I was given this idea, but I finally really got inspired. Hope ya'll enjoy it!

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Consuming Past

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Thump. Thump. Thump. Siobhan's heart began to hammer against its cage and her lungs began to gasp silently for breath. Every muscle in her petite body tensed and coiled. Her knuckles turned white as her short nails dug into the soft palms of her small hands. She could feel a warm liquid begin to trickle between her fingers, originating from her palms, but she took little notice. Her blue eyes consumed her face, alight with horror and disbelief. The monotonous day-to-day gossip-saturated conversations flickered and faded away in her ears. Siobhan was transported back eleven years, once again seven years old and facing down the formidable murderer Morzan and his dragon. She could hear the screams of her village and rafters collapsing. She could feel the oppressive heat of the flames consuming its buildings, and the salty tears streaming down her face. She could smell the acrid burning smoke and the stench of the sweaty dragon with claws drenched in blood. She was there.

Siobhan stumbled forward when one of her fellow shoppers accidentally bumped her. Siobhan snapped out of her memory. Her eyes darted frantically around the crowded marketplace. The crowd suddenly seemed unbearable and the noise much too loud. It seemed everything was closing in around her. She had to escape away from everything. "Are you alright?" The shopkeepers concerned voice barely registered in her ears. Siobhan dashed away, running as fast as she could before she collapsed at the edge of camp. Dust billowed up around her as she fell on the ground. Her legs could not support her any longer.

"They say that traitor, Morzan's son, is returning. Says he changed his ways and wants to audience with Nasuada. Shadeslayer's bringing him and his lizard. Be here day after tomorrow." The words echoed in Siobhan's ears on a continuous loop. She could not purge the shopkeepers words from her head. Her chest tightened and she pulled her legs close to her chest, wrapping her arms around her shins. Siobhan rocked back and forth, breathing hard. "They say that traitor, Morzan's son, is returning... Be here day after tomorrow. They say that traitor, Morzan's son is returning...changed his ways...audience with Nasuada...Be here day after tomorrow... Morzan's son..."

"He's coming." Siobhan rasped out breathlessly as she continued to rock, trying to calm herself. Was he coming for her? To finish what his father began all those years ago? "Couldn't be." Siobhan muttered. "He doesn't even know me – couldn't. Besides, I'm just an unimportant healer. He probably doesn't even know I exist. He won't ever see me. I won't see him." Yet the fact remained – Morzan's son was coming to the Varden. It did not matter if his ways had changed or not. He was still Morzan's son. Morzan – who had destroyed her family and village, whose dragon marred her face. Morzan – who had taken her entire happy life and torn it to shreds before tossing the pieces into a strong wind. Morzan – who's very name sent icy chills slithering up and down her spine. Doubtless, his son would be the same.

Siobhan's breathing began to even out and her rocking slowed ever so gently into a halt. Morzan's son. "I will be strong. I will be alright." Siobhan murmured, closing her eyes. She had not been aware of his presence in Tronjgeim, having been sequestered away with a patient when he arrived and then swamped with wounded during the battle. She had discovered after the fact that Morzan's son had been near her. Now, the gossip would be inescapable. She would be surrounded by it, immersed in it. Siobhan felt trapped, consumed by the past that was rapidly becoming her future.

I will be strong. Siobhan repeated, willing it to be true. I will be strong.

There was nothing else to be.

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