Well this is my first story on this site, but i have written a single story on Fanpop, so please bear with me. This story takes place during the battle of the Burning Plains onward. There is one difference though; that Jeod never told Roran of Eregon being a rider.

Here you go:

Arya's POV

'This is madness,' Arya thought as she ran another through with her blade.

Her sword was stained red with the blood of the Empire's army, but despite her efforts and that of those around her, the soldiers kept moving forward against the Varden.

Repulsed by the pointless suffering around her, she tried to end the soldier's lives quickly. They all feared her; something she saw clearly. She could read it in their eyes, and every time she seized control of an unfortunate magician's mind, she always felt the battle-inspired emotions fear and fury throughout every mind it was connected to.

As much as it disgusted her, though, she knew her duty and thus she kept up her slaughter against the helpless soldiers.

Nasuada's POV

All hope had fled from the Varden's soldiers.

The camaraderie that had sustained them this far in the battle was fading quickly into the fumes as countless bonds of fellowship were systematically destroyed by inexperience and the Empire's well-trained, well fed, and heavily reinforced army.

'I've failed them. This is my entire fault; I have single handedly destroyed a hundred years of hard work by my father and his predecessors. '

The only thing that kept the ranks together was the duo of Eragon and Saphira, who were currently flying against the King's new rider. The very thought of another rider fighting for Galbatorix chilled her blood, and convinced her that they had to finish this war before the last egg hatched, if not only to save it from Galbatorix's madness then to also prevent him from becoming untouchable.

She helped kill a nearby group of soldiers that the nighthawks hadn't had the time to kill yet, and glanced at the two dragons.

Saphira currently had the ruby dragon within her claws, and took it into a dive. The dragons' roars became more pronounced, and with a horrible, painful shriek, it slammed headfirst into the ground.

Eragon's POV

His assault on the rider wasn't going well at all.

He already had several cuts and bruises from the enemy rider's blade, and though he had made three dents in the rider's armor; one on the cuff, the thigh, and the last on his helm, they had all been hard-won. The blows had been satisfying, though.

When Saphira slammed the ruby dragon into the rocky earth, Eragon nearly impaled himself on one of her neck spines - only his nearly nonexistent wards saving him.

Quickly, he slashed the straps holding him to the saddle, and dismounted, drawing spare energy from the belt of Beloth the Wise, and waited for the rider to heal his dragon.

From what Eragon could tell, it was poor healing, but would last the dragon in a fight.

The rider spoke up; "You're a strong one, Eragon. In all of our training Thorn and I have never had such a challenge."

The voice was eerily familiar - it was dark and depressed, filled with bitterness and regret - And in an instant he knew who it was.

"Hello Murtagh."

Baldly said, his old friend blinked.

"Your thoughts are sharper as well. It's nice to see you, although under the circumstances, I think I rather wish I had died in the tunnels - almost."

His dragon settled on its stomach, while Saphira remained standing with her teeth bared.

"Murtagh, I mourned you, I wept over your death; you were one of the few people not out for my head." Eragon growled at the Red Rider.

"Let's get this over with; before i lose all the respect I once had for your memory."

His eyes flashed angrily, and he drew his blade. Unadorned and made with regular steel, it still gleamed in the almost non-existent sunlight.

Eragon lunged at Murtagh, wanting the first strike, and was blocked instantly. Murtagh was put off balance with his speed though, and he pressed his advantage.

Eragon let out a confusing series of blows, each just as unpredictable as the last, and did not let Murtagh take any moment to get his bearings.

Finally, the steel sword was deflected downwards and his own sword flew to Murtagh's exposed throat.

An inhumane look seemed to permeate Murtagh's eyes at the loss, and in response Eragon dug his sword deeper against his throat, drawing a trickle of blood.

He opened his mouth, and a voice, sweet as honey, filled the air; "Give up, puny rider, for you have lost."

The steel blade flew up, and immediately Saphira lunged at Murtagh-Galbatorix.

The king snarled, and slashed at Eragon's neck, but Saphira jumped forward, roaring as she knocked Eragon aside but took the blow in her own neck. Quickly losing strength, she collapsed.

"No!" Eragon cried as he ran to his bond partner, and abandoning all defense encompassed her mind with his own, desperately trying to think of a way to save her.

Saphira's mind sent a faint trickle of thought to his own, "Eragon, do not mourn me. Please, destroy this usurper and live your own life."

Panic threatened to overwhelm him, and he felt the bond they shared begin to wither.

"Saphira, no!" He whispered tearfully.

Eragon looked into her icy blue eyes, and they filled with tears, "We will meet again, Little one. Take my energy, and defeat the Egg-Breaker."

In the lucid part of his mind, he felt the sword flick to his neck, but he ignored it and turned around, while drawing Zar'roc.

In an aggrieved voice, he felt himself say, "Saphira, I love you, partner of my heart." And then felt the rush of energy accompanying a feeling of something breaking inside of him, and he lunged.

XxXxXxXx

EDIT: 11/22/14. Corrected Grammar, fixed sentences, generally did what younger me didn't feel the need to do to make the story shine.