NB: One shot, don't own it, never will. *sigh*

Nasuada rested her head in her hands. Nothing seemed to be going well so far, and it didn't look as though it was going to be getting any better any time soon. They may have won a great victory, but they had lost a great deal in the process. Most of her soldiers were ether wounded, dying or dead, their families were in mourning and her allies were no better. She had begun to doubt herself a lot these days. Whether or not she was making the right decisions. Several times she contemplated the idea of relinquishing the Varden to someone else, someone older, wiser, stronger and more competent at such matters as these. It had taken her a long time to be able to put those thoughts behind her.

Questioning your own judgement was no the sign of a good leader, that much she had learned form her father. He had also told her that those who fight for the sake of fighting are not true warriors, but those who fight for something they hold close to them, they are the true soldiers. Nasuada wondered what she was fighting for. To rid the land of Galbatorix, yes, but she knew it was not her destiny to strike the final blow against him, nor the first or any in between when the day came he should be challenged. There was something deeper than that she was fighting for.

She walked across to the window of her chambers and watched the scene below. From here, she could see her whole army- the healthy, the sick and the dead. Was it them she was fighting for? No, they were the ones fighting for her, for their loved ones. Was it for the orphans she saw littering around the camp? No, their needs were not met by Nasuada's battles. In fact they made them worse.

One face stood out form the others. A face surrounded by crowds of loving people. A face that rode on the back of a sapphire dragon. Eragon was returning to his chambers after assisting the healers. He looked exhausted, but he still managed to smile for the crowds. Saphira's scales glistened in the low dusk light like a thousand crystals, shimmering and shifting as she moved with grace across the ground. Her wings were wrapped into her side in a protective stance around Eragon, who took barely any notice of it. Ever since they arrived, Nasuada had thought greatly of them, the two beacons of hope for the people, and those people included her. How she, and the Varden, would have survived this far without them was beyond her thoughts. Never before had a man been so feared and so loved by the people.

She watched the two of them make their way through the crowds towards their distant resting place, never moving her eyes from them. Could it be them she was fighting for? For Saphira? No, not Saphira. Although she would give her own life to save the dragon, she sensed this was not the answer. Eragon, then? He had changed things greatly for her, in not just political and military matters. She remembered the first day she met Eragon, how long it had taken to get to sleep the following night, how difficult it was to keep herself from smiling whenever he entered the room. At first she thought it was just a crush, a silly little thing that would disappear in time. Yet it never truly had. Although she had learned to control her actions around him, she never truly mastered her feelings. Her heart still skipped a beat when he walked past her, almost stopping whenever he smiled at her. There was still warmth in her chest when she thought about him- which was most of any spare time she had. She was always extra careful when she was in Eragon's presence so as not to give off a bad image of herself. But not a word was spoken between them about the way she felt, for she knew it would only end in her heart being broken.

Eragon's heart already belonged to Arya, even if she refused to accept it. A foolish move in Nasuada's opinion. Why would you reject such a loving, caring, beautiful man when you had the almost impossible chance?

Nasuada knew she wouldn't, and she would keep holding out for him until the very end.

But he wouldn't know.

Eragon would never know, until it was too late.