On a seemingly average day, Eragon and Saphira had a strong urge to travel to a certain spot some distance away from the Varden. Shortly after departing, they saw a teenage girl and a tall guy in a trench coat doing…yoga?

This was, of course, not something they were expecting to see, so like any self-respecting dragon and rider, they went to go investigate.

"Finally!" the girl exclaimed, brushing the dust off and straightening up. "You guys took much longer to get here than I expected. Hi, I'm Dominique." The speaker was a fairly short fifteen year-old with shoulder length reddish brown hair, green eyes, and pale skin. She was wearing sweats and a gray hoodie; quite unusual clothes in Alagaësia. "And this is my narrator, Bob. I would have preferred to be wearing jeans, but they're pretty much impossible to do yoga in, so…" at this point she trailed off. Eragon was staring weirdly at her. She sighed.

"Why do you need a narrator?" he asked.

"Because I'm the author, and I don't really feel like writing in first person." The tone of voice in which she said this made her opinion of Eragon's intelligence perfectly clear.

"Can you prove that you're The Author?"

"I'm not The Author; that's C.P. I'm only the author, as in author of this fan fiction. Why don't you just probe my mind and get this over with. There are people reading this who want something to happen already!"

"Are you going to aid us in the fight against the Empire?"

"No, this isn't my version of book four; this is just me with Writer's Block. All that fight stuff is on pause for now."

"Why?"

"Gosh, are you always this slow? It would be a lot harder for me to meet Murtagh if I was helping you fight him, wouldn't it?"

"Well, I guess, but…"

"And what will you do in book four if I helped you solve all your problems?" Dominique turned to Saphira. "Is he always this dim?" she asked.

Sometimes he is also as rude as you are little one.

The young girl blushed hard at Saphira's lazy comment, but Eragon was distracted by other things.

"You can't call her little one, you call me little one!" he shouted, outraged.

Fine, since she is smaller than you, you will be little one, and she will be tiny one.

"There is no way that I'm going to be tiny one!" Dominique announced. "I'm not that short. You can call me awesome one."

"I wanna be called awesome one! How come you don't call me awesome one?"

"Because you're not nearly as awesome as I am."

"Yes I am!"

"Clearly you're not."

Stop bickering! Am I the only mature one here?

"Well, Bob is kind of mature, but I don't know if narrators count. Anyway, do you think that my being mature will really cure writer's block? I'm here to have fun." She frowned slightly, and ran her foot back and forth over the dusty ground. "Why didn't I bring shoes?" No one was able to answer the question, not even Bob the Narrator. "Oh well, let's just get on with this already! Let's go to the Varden."

Very well, I can carry both you and Eragon, but I do not know about the third. If one of you does not mind being carried in my talons…

"Oh, don't worry about Bob, he can teleport." Even Bob looked surprised at this piece of information. "It's part of his narrator powers." Dominique explained, with a tone that implied that she thought this should be obvious. "How else would he be able to narrate different viewpoints that are far away from each other?"

"Well, okay then. Get on Saphira."

After fifteen minutes of unsuccessful attempts to get to the top of the large dragon, Dominique was clinging to Eragon's back as he helped her onto Saphira, certain that she was going to fall to her death. "You know this is really humiliating, right?" she asked through clenched teeth, and tightly closed eyes.

"You can let go now," Eragon announced, but Dominique kept a tight grip, though she started to open one eye.

"Is this a good time to mention that I don't really like heights that much?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"And you said nothing about this earlier, why?"

"It didn't seem so important while I was on the ground. Tell me when this is over."

"We haven't even taken off yet. Cheer up; when are you ever going to get another chance to ride a dragon?" Dominique didn't answer. Saphira got bored with the whole thing, and took off; her powerful wings beating against the air. Dominique screamed for a few seconds, and then stopped and looked around.

"This might not be that bad," she admitted. Just then Saphira did a spectacular midair backflip that brought forth more screaming. "I changed my mind! I changed my mind! I changed my mind! I changed my mind!" she screamed over and over again until Eragon clamped a hand over her mouth. When she appeared to be calm, Eragon removed his hand. A few seconds later, the young(ish) girl asked, "Are we there yet?"

"No." Eragon replied.

The rest of short trip was silent, and soon they arrived at the Varden.

"Hi Nasuada!" she shouted at the dark skinned leader of the Varden, just before tumbling off of the back of Saphira. "Ow. That hurt."

"Eragon, who is this?" Nasuada demanded of her rider. "And how does she know my name?"

"This is Dominique, the author." He explained wearily. "She has writer's block, and thinks that coming here will fix it." Nasuada was at a loss for words, but Dominique wasn't.

"Hey! Where's Angela? I always wanted to meet her!" Apparently the fall had no lasting effects, and Dominique went bounding into the center of the Varden, with Bob the Narrator close behind.

Aren't you going to go after her Eragon? Saphira asked.

"I think this is going to be more work than I expected." The dragon rider sighed.