Chapter 1

Hi this is my first fanfic so don't kill me. But, don't coddle me either.

I'm assuming that everyone who reads this has already read Brisingr.

Just so everyone knows and I don't get sued, I do not own these characters or their setting it all belongs to Christopher Paolini.

This is my interpretation of his genius.

The city of Feinster was quiet. Not silent but there was less disruption out here, out upon the ramparts of the city's walls than in the great hall.

Eragon sighed heavily. It had been a week since the city had fallen to the Varden and still the council bickered. And all of them call upon the great Dragon Rider to back them on their vague claims of wisdom and intelligence. Eragon chuckled mirthlessly at the thought, not too long ago no one would have given a damn about what he thought.

His smile quickly faded as a cart piled high with corpses left a nearby gate and continued to the pillar of smoke outside the city, the over laden cart left behind it a foul stench of corrupted flesh. The few people that were in the streets quickly dispersed upon its arrival.

Such loss, Eragon thought.

"Eragon?"

He turned to see Arya standing nearby; her face was full of concern at the sight of the depressed Rider.

"Yes Shadeslayer?" Replied Eragon trying to make a half-hearted attempt to make a joke and smile, but failed to do it himself.

The corners of the elf's mouth twitched faintly, "Nasuada wants to speak with you, I think it's a new mission."

"Thank you – I'll go see her now."

Arya grabbed his forearm as Eragon tried to pass her. She searched his face for any indication of pain or fatigue. But Eragon had hidden his face, masking it with a skill he had learned directly from the elf standing before him.

"Eragon … are you alright? I haven't seen Saphira in a couple of days."

Eragon's face softened a fraction at the mention of Saphira. And Arya released his arm.

She's hiding.

"She's … hunting; we both decided that we needed some time to … accept what has happened."

She fears the possibility of my death. Eragon thought sadly.

"Eragon … we need to talk. Just as friends. … You're the only friend I have." The last part was only just above a whisper.

Eragon felt a flash of pity. She deserves better than this, to only have me as a friend, a love sick Rider who finds her the center of his thoughts who she does not love back.

"Eragon stop pitying me! I am an adult! I can survive without a multitude of friendships!!!!" Her eyes shot daggers at him that pierced his heart.

"How? … never mind – Arya you shouldn't have to just survive. You deserve better."

"That doesn't matter; all I am concerned about is wining this war. So you can't take your pity and give it to someone who needs it."

"My apologies, I did not mean to offend you."

No words were spoken for an eternity.

Eragon broke the silence, "how did you know what I was thinking?"

"Your face betrayed you." Arya replied softly.

She then walked gracefully away before Eragon said "I would be happy to speak with you Arya."

She stopped for a moment and looked back at him. She nodded her head. There was little emotion apparent upon her face but her eyes showed the depths of her gratitude at his acceptance. She then continued on and out of sight.

To Eragon's relief Nasuada was not in the great hall playing politics with the other 'leaders' of the Varden. She had retired to her office and awaited Eragon there. Eragon thanked the page that had informed him and quickly retreated from the hall before anyone found out he was there.

One of the Night Hawks on duty announced Eragon before he was allowed to enter the room. Nasuada was sitting behind a desk piled high with official looking papers. There were dark smudges beneath her lusterless eyes

"Nasuada! When was the last time you slept!?"

Nasuada only smiled, exhaustion apparent in the simple gesture.

"Eragon your concern is touching but I'm one of the few things holding the Varden together. No, don't argue with me it's the truth, no matter how much those imbeciles in the great hall have to say about it." She closed her eyes and gave out a long sigh. She seemed to have trouble opening her eyes again.

She and Arya … they both need to get away from this war, but neither will allow it and one won't admit it. Eragon thought.

"Very well … but I'm still worried."

Nasuada's smile widened a margin at his last comment. She was still having trouble opening her eyes.

"I have received reports from the Varden's spies of a training camp close to Belatonna. You are to destroy it, leave nothing. Prepare yourself and Saphira to leave in three days."

"Understood." After giving Nasuada another worried glance before turning to the door.

When the door closed there was the barest whisper: "I'm sorry Eragon, but it must be done. Their blood is on my hands, I pray that one day you will forgive me."

Saphira called Eragon.

Yes little one, she replied.

We have a new mission; we are to destroy a military training camp near Belatonna.

I will return soon.

Eragon put his mental shields back up and thought how much longer before this is all over? Will it take our lives? Or just our ability to live?

So how was it? Please Review and Respond. Don't like it? Then don't read any more of it.