Hello, dragon fans!
I, for one, was thoroughly disappointed with the ending of Inheritance. We got FOUR BOOKS of budding E/A relationship, and then he LEAVES FOREVER and doesn't even KISS her? Totally uncalled for. Therefore, I sat down at the computer and wrote this instead of doing my homework.

Saphira's Point of View

The blazing-night-eye-moon was strangely bright tonight, Saphira reflected as she dipped through the air. Below her, a group of pointed-ear-two-legs were setting up camp in a somber fashion, among them Fìrnen-Rider-elf-Arya and her own partner-of-mind-and-heart, Eragon. She could sense her Rider's sorrow and anticipation through the link of their minds.

The cool-night-air beneath her wings rippled as green-scales-hatchling-Fìrnen whirled in the air beside her. Saphira considered chasing him and growling, and discarded both.

Back below, she sensed a slight commotion in the earth-bound group. Mind-partner-Eragon's voice echoed through their link. I'll be back soon. Don't worry. Of course, Saphira worried. It was rarely unrewarded.

Be careful, little one, she warned. Eragon acknowledged, and Saphira continued to soar above the group of pointed-ears.

Eragon's Point of View

Every movement caused Eragon pain. Not physical, but no less severe for it. He was leaving Alagaësia, never to return. Never to see his loved ones again. And Arya—Arya would not be accompanying him. Another pang echoed through his chest, and, unable to stop himself, he reached out and grasped the elf woman's shoulder. She turned, an expression of mild surprise on her face. "Eragon, what—" he placed a finger over his lips, and she fell quiet.

"Follow me." Together, they turned away from the small clearing and into the woods. After they had gone a few hundred feet, Eragon stopped, turned, and looked Arya in the eyes. "Arya, there is something I must tell you, before I leave. I was scared to say this before, but we may never see each other again; this is my last chance."

She cut him off. "Eragon, you can't. We can't."

He placed a finger over her lips this time. "Let me speak. I am in full control of my mind right now. I know what I am saying.

"I love you, Arya Dröttning. I love you, and I always will. I couldn't leave without telling you that."

"Eragon," Arya whispered.

"Don't." Eragon said. "Don't say anything. Please."

Arya gazed up at him, her eyes like chips of emerald in the pale light of the moon. Slowly, deliberately, she reached up and placed first one hand and then the other on his cheeks, cradling his face. Her expression now was unreadable. In the softest of whispers, Arya said his true name, and then she leaned up and kissed him.

Eragon's eyes flew shut. His hand moved from Arya's face to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her long dark hair. His free arm wrapped itself around her waist, holding her closer. Their bodies molded together; their breath mixed. All Eragon could taste, feel, smell, was Arya. All he could hear was the pounding of her heart and the rush of blood in his ears.

And then it was over. Arya pulled away from him, a hectic flush in her cheeks, eyes green and glowing. They were both gasping. "Eragon," she said, and pressed her head against his chest. He rested his chin on her head, and held her close as their breathing slowed. After a while, Arya murmured, "I love you, too, Shur'tugal. I don't know how, or why, but I do, and I only wished I had admitted it sooner."

"You really were stubborn," Eragon said, smiling slightly. Then he grew serious. "Arya," he said, and then said her true name. He lifted her chin so she was looking into her eyes. "I swear to you, on my life and Saphira's, this will not be the last time I speak to you. Vel einradhin iet ai Shur'tugal."

And then he leaned in and kissed her again, fervently. A lump rose in his throat, threatening to choke him, and he pulled away when the pain was too great to bear. "I love you," he said again. It seemed that, now that he was able to speak the words, he couldn't hold them back. He held her close, and kissed her forehead, eyelids, the slant of her cheekbones. At last, they parted, and, with only hands touching, returned to the group.

The days passed. When the time for parting came, Eragon embraced his cousin. He handed over the casket of jewels, and wished the last member of his family a long and happy life. Arya stayed with him until the first curve of the river. He turned to her when they reached it, and pushed the cowl away from her face. He whispered her true name, and she whispered his, and then, oblivious to the onlookers, kissed her.

"I swear to you," he said.

"I love you," she replied. "Farewell, Eragon Shadeslayer. Until we meet again."

"Farewell," he whispered, and then Fìrnen dropped from the heavens and carried the woman he loved away.

Tell me what you think!
~SE