A/N: Spoiler alert, this is after the Inheritance Cycle is COMPLETELY over. So read at your discretion. One more author's note below.

Also, thank you, BrightWatcher for helping me clear up some mistakes, both grammatical and otherwise.

"Spell-casters, spell casters, spell-casters," mumbled Elva, "Seriously, Lady Nightstalker, can't you come up with something else to talk about?" She turned her heel and walked away from the Queen.

The irritation had been evident in the girl from the beginning of their conversation, but Nasuada had continued unabated, because apart from thinking about him, it was the only action she could have taken to actually FIND him.

The idiotic author of Inheritance had left her waiting for him, an endless wait that would last for centuries, until someone else took up the pen and wrote HER story, instead of rambling about how poignant Eragon's situation was. The author seemed to like endless angst endings, and Nasuada was having none of it. She would not wait eternally, but search for him.

She would have added 'No matter how long it takes,' yet she was aware she hadn't the luxury of time at her disposal. She had been rejecting suitors all her life, but ever since she had become the queen, the men had gone mad. A beautiful wife, as well as a short-cut way to the throne, fame, glory and power? who wouldn't want that?

Murtagh wouldn't. The thought brought a sad smile to her lips. There was one man who she'd die to have by her side, and that man didn't want the position that others would do anything for. The thought had troubled her. Would she really be able to refuse an offer from him, if it meant that she'd have to go to wherever his dragon and him wanted, "Where the wind sweeps us," as Murtagh had said?

Her mind flashed back to the time when she had refused his offer. Would she really be able to do it again? Her throat hardened as she felt regret wash over her.

She recalled seeing how tired Murtagh was when he and Thorn had flown out of Uru'ban, but after healing himself and Thorn, he had looked at her with fire in his eyes. They had been talking softly, about topics she didn't remember, but it was the intimacy she remembered. She was aware of Eragon and Saphira's eyes fixed on them, but she didn't care.

And before she could predict it, before she could even see it, his lips were seconds away from hers, his hot breath forming drops of moisture on her lips. She closed the gap and was in his arms then, his hands roaming everywhere. Her gasp made him break away swiftly. He pulled back the fabric on her blouse and saw the scars, his face lined with rage.

His hand lightly touched her as he began to speak in the Ancient Language, healing her. She had been about to protest, but when she saw the determined look on his face, she stopped herself. But, in her mind, she was screaming, kiss me, you idiot, I've stood this pain for so long, don't waste your energy!

Just as she was consoling herself that 'there would be plenty of time for all that later,' Murtagh had finished healing her, and was speaking to her in the Ancient Language. She kept opening her mouth to interrupt him and explain, as he already knew, that she didn't understand what he was saying, but the words kept flowing from his mouth, and Nasuada realized that it was a spell.

Once Murtagh was done, he took in a deep breath, and in a rush, grabbed her and pulled her towards him. She welcomed his mouth on hers again, and was shocked to receive only a rough, brusque kiss.

"Goodbye," he muttered to her.

Before she could react in any way, he was on Thorn's back. The red dragon leapt up into the air, and jumped into the sky, gaining altitude. Shocked, she called to him, but the shaggy-haired youth didn't look back.

Then she could hear Murtagh's voice in her mind. With images, thoughts and words, he explained to her that he was going for good. Morzan's son will never be accepted into the Varden, his voice had explained. Through thoughts and images, he showed her what he thought would happen to the fragile sense of order if he was present, with the Varden for certain losing the support of the dwarfs, because he had killed their king.

"I'll only make trouble for you," was his last argument.

Suddenly Saphira was flying towards her, Eragon on her back.

"Where are they going?" He asked, his face worried.

"Away," was all she could manage to say, before he flew towards the direction in which his brother had flown. Hot tears streaked her face as she prayed Eragon would bring him back. She wished she had had a chance to jump on Saphira's back too, but she knew that would have wasted them precious time. Besides, she wasn't sure Murtagh would welcome her putting herself in danger again. Not after he had done so much to protect her. So she had sat there, mind running over his thoughts and memories, until, with what seemed like a blur, she was rushed into her tent by Jomunder, and ordered to rest for the whole day.

Nasuada forced herself to break out of the cycle of thoughts, and focus on reality. Paolini had not created her as a "strong character" just for nothing. She was strong, and strong she had to be. For she was the queen now, and though that gave her many comforts, it also gave her many responsibilities.

She was actually glad of the power and accountability, as it gave her an excuse for the complete lack of romance she had had all her life. Sometimes she wondered, what was she doing, before Murtagh had come along? Most girls her age would have finished their whirlwind affairs, and even settled down and born children.

The words 'children' reminded her of the illusion Gallbatorix had constructed, where Murtagh and her had been married, and the maid had come in, talking about "The children." She had treasured the memory of the illusion, though she knew it was fake and only a ploy to get her to swear fealty to the king.

Would it have really been all that bad if she had said yes to the king? Murtagh would have been by her side then, along with Eragon.

They had both left her, and she was the loneliest ruler in the world.

A/N: So, after finally piloting through Paolini's book, hoping to get some info about Nasuada and Murtagh, after having to bear the arrogant and emo Eragon whining about his stupid Arya, )on and on and on… by the way), it finally turns out that NOTHING HAPPENS! I was so angry, and decided to write a story, but only got so far, and thinking of leaving this as a one-shot. Tell me your opinions.