He finally came to terms with it. It was all over. Three days ago, he plunged his flaming blue sword into the dark heart of the tyrant, decapitating him and ensuring that he never rose again. Eragon sighed and flopped upon his cot. Staring at the roof of his tent, he wondered what his mentors thought of him.
Reminiscing was a favorite pastime of Eragon's.
'What would have his father Brom thought of him after accomplishing what he gave his life for?'
However, eradicating Galbatorix did not give Eragon the satisfaction that he hoped for. The years after becoming a rider had him nurturing dreams of having a family, a mate to love at the end of the war. Someone to come home to, one who would actually love him.
He remembered living with Uncle Garrow and Aunt Marian in Carvahall, they had cared for him as a son, and brought him up as one of their own. But they never truly loved him. Roran treated him as a brother, but he had Katrina and it was never the same after Garrow's death. Brom was like a father to him, but never outwardly showed any compassion. He knew the old man loved him as a son, but it was hidden behind the years of hardships he had endured. Losing his dragon to Morzan was one of the hardest things he had experienced, and Brom told him it shut him off from the outside world. Selena's death only resulted in distancing him further from society.
Oromis and Glaedr, mentors, the source of light that shone toward the path of success. The beings that made Eragon's adventure possible, who believed in him and shaped him into what he was today. They overlooked every fault, and smoothed out his rough edges through their patience and guidance.
Eragon's half-brother Murtagh had left him for Nasuada. Galbatorix's reign meant the two star-crossed lovers were turned against each other. Their forbidden affection grew over time, and once the dark king's form hit the marble floor in Uru'baen, Murtagh rushed to meet the love of his life. They married each other the same day, and rushed off to the island of Nía for their honeymoon.
Saphira, Eragon's partner of mind and soul, his beautiful sapphire dragoness, the one who had stuck with him throughout his entire journey. She picked him up when he was down, cared for him when he was hurt, advised him when he needed help, and fought tooth and claw to save his life countless times. The conclusion of the century long war saw her leave with the mighty Thorn for the week.
Eragon mentally sighed, 'I have nobody'.
He had reached this conclusion multiple times over the past few days. The love of his life spurned his affections a year ago at the Agaetí Blödhren, after that he never saw fit to pursue her again. Although, Arya opened up to him after Eastcroft, allowing him to shoulder some of her burden. Her unemotional mask often broke when she thought about her past lover Faölin. Eragon's jealousy no longer flared up when she cried upon his shoulder due to the fair elf's death.
Eragon felt that Faölin was truly the luckiest man in the world. Years after his death, Arya still pined for him. Any person who held Arya's heart would be most fortunate. She was so delicate, so precious in his eyes. She resided within the very core of his heart like a treasured gem that gave him something to fight for when he thought of giving up. He knew she might think less of him if he told her this, but one of the main reasons he wanted to win the war was for her and Saphira.
Over time, Eragon saw straight through Arya's emotional impasse, and witnessed pools of compassion and caring locked away within the depths of her eyes and heart.
They had grown close, often accompanying each other throughout the day, talking and simply being there for each other. It was in these moments that Eragon felt that her true nature came out. She would soothe him and care for him when he was down, laugh with him, and offer her companionship when they were alone. The time they spent together had grown from almost nothing to seeing each other at nearly every waking moment. But she still felt for Faölin.
'It seems that I can do nothing to change that'
The rider's brain whirred with such thoughts encompassing his consciousness, and soon he fell asleep on his cot.
On the other side of the Varden camp, a raven-haired elf was sitting on the floor, with her back leaning against her tent. Arya Dröttningu lifted her hand and tucked some of her locks that were falling upon her sculpted alabaster face behind a pointed ear.
'Eragon…' she thought.
'Why does he consume my every waking moment?'
Her mind was stuck between flashbacks, from when she first met the human rider to the point where he ran Galbatorix through with Brisingr. Every intimate moment, holding his hand during Oromis and Glaedr's funeral, dancing with him during the celebration of Dras-Leona, swimming in the Toark River and visiting the floating crystal of Eoam after Galbatorix's death.
'There is only one explanation for this. No! I love Faölin, not Eragon. How could I love Eragon? He is only kind, brave, handsome and cares for my life more than his. What am I saying? He has changed from the naïve boy I met in Farthen Dûr to the man and leader he is today.'
She sighed mentally, 'All my previous arguments hold no value. He has endured so much that he is as wise as an elf with hundreds of years. The war is over, we cannot be used against each other. Even my mother has expressed her desire for me to take a mate! What will I do…'. Her slanted eyes closed as she fell asleep thinking about the man who now held her heart.
The sun seeped through the flap of Arya's tent and pierced through her long eyelashes. Her eyes fluttered as Aiedail rose higher into the sky. She got up from her resting position and stretched gracefully. Walking over to her drawers, she pulled out her customary black leather, and slipped it over the undergarments that she was wearing. Summer was coming around and it was far too hot to wear appropriate clothing when sleeping.
She braided her hair into a ponytail and uttered a few words to wash herself with magic before stepping out into the new day. She skillfully weaved her way through the mass of tents only to arrive at Eragon's dwelling.
The rider sensed her presence and mouthed, "Come in Arya".
She pushed the tent flap open to reveal a brown-haired man sitting upon a stool, reading a scroll titled 'The Deed of Geda' in the ancient language.
"Eragon" she greeted him with a smile.
He responded with an upward twist of his lips, and patted the stool next to him.
"What have you come for Arya?"
She looked slightly offended by his word choice.
"Can I not seek the company of my dearest friend?"
Surprise flashed through his eyes, which was then replaced by his previous expression of warmth.
"Of course you can my lady, what would you like to do today?"
"Perhaps we could spend some time near a brook I found on the outskirts of the city. I know how much you appreciate the beauty of nature"
He smiled a genuine smile, "You know me too well princess"
She cupped his cheek tenderly, "I truly enjoy your company Eragon, come, let us be off"
The gurgling of the small stream enveloped Eragon's senses. The rippling water reflected the suns rays such that it was shining.
The two companions lay down upon a bed of grass, parallel to the brook. Arya turned to look at Eragon's face. She noted how the light emphasized his accented cheekbones, another result of the dragon's gift. She gripped his hand that was lying by his side.
Moving her thumb in circles across his palm, she asked
"What are you thinking about?"
He angled his body toward her in order to respond in a more proper fashion.
"Everyone has found a match. Roran and Katrina, Murtagh and Nasuada, Saphira and Thorn. I…" Eragon paused abruptly. He shook his head and looked at the now bubbling water.
"Come Eragon, you know you can tell me anything. What ails you?"
He sighed, she would never give up. He thought about answering in a roundabout fashion, but he knew that she would see straight through is façade. Arya knew him too well.
"When will I find my match Arya? Nobody… nobody has shown me love throughout my life. I feel lonely knowing my time through the ages will be spent alone. I stumbled across a thought in Horst's mind when he looked at me after the battle in Feinster, he was thinking about how Garrow told him that I was only cared for out of duty to Garrow's sister, my mother. Roran is like a brother to me, but he has Katrina. Murtagh is my half-brother, his time in Galbatorix's castle meant he lost all feelings of friendship toward me. He also has Nasuada now. Saphira is an extension of myself, so she does not count. Besides, she has taken Thorn as her mate. The women of the Varden only want me for my power. Who do I have?"
He returned his gaze to the sky, spilling his innermost secrets made him uncomfortable.
Arya pulled his hand to her chest and pressed it against her beating heart.
"You have me Eragon"
He looked her in the eyes, "I… You love Faölin" he said with a frown creasing his brow.
"I have had time to come to terms with what I feel Eragon. You, and you only consume my every thought, my every breath. Every time I am with you I feel unbounded levels of contentment. You are my everything, the source of my laughter, my joy... Not Faölin, just you. You have stayed with me through thick and thin, protecting me and my independence from forces that threatened it, comforting me when I needed you and allowing me to lend you some of my burdens without complaining when I did not return the favor"
She blinked back a tear that was about to fall.
"I believe I should tell you what I should have realized a long time ago. I love you Eragon" she whispered in the ancient language.
A smile immediately ran across her perfectly sculpted countenance, making her look all the more beautiful. She got up with a start and pulled Eragon to his feet. Arya laughed jubilantly. At last, she had understood the emotion that she felt rise whenever she saw the rider.
Eragon laughed with pure, unadulterated delight and picked her up, twirling her in the air.
"I love you Eragon! I love you!
He grinned, before setting her down.
"What a beautiful soul" he whispered in her ear.
He brushed his lips against hers.
"I love you too Arya. I love you more than the plants love the sun and the clouds love the rain. You are the only woman I have ever loved, and the only woman I will ever love".
He kissed her soundly on the lips, as he had dreamed of kissing her many times. He could not breathe, but nothing else mattered to him, his heart was bursting with glee at the thought that Arya loved him.
She smiled against his lips, looking into her beloved's face.
"I will make you feel loved iet Shur'tugal. The way in which you deserve"
She rested her head in the crook of his neck as he skimmed his hand over her black tresses.
His response was nuzzling into her hair and murmuring words of love into her ear.
They stayed like that until the sun went down, in each other's embrace, ready to face the challenges of restoring Alagaesia to its former splendor, together, as one.