Stranded
They were the last two left standing on the bank. Abandoned by separately a friend and a lover. Arya watching Eragon's retreating back as he left for the unknown and Nasuada looking on helplessly as her friend left to a land from whence he would not return. It was a sad quiet moment and the two women stood together until the boat fled from human sight and Ayra reached out mind and hand to share her elven sight with Nasuada. Latter still an ancient word was mumbled into the silence to bring embellished sight. But eventually that too failed and they were forced to walk away hand in hand back to the forest.
The banquet that night was a somber affaire. Beginning with Arya's abdication and ending with Nasuada's departure. And as the queen of the Varden, now ruler of the kingdom of men rode away across the plains towards Uru'baen a tear slipped down her cheek and shadow fell over her before a voice from the heavens called "come fly with me" and a dragon descended to the ground Arya astride her back. Nasuada leapt from her horse to the great beast and they were once again in the air.
The years that followed were hard beyond imagine. Arya organized the circulating of the dragon eggs and acted as a police service while Nasuada tried to bring trust and order to Alagaesia. Both parties were plagued by nightmares and survivors guilt, feelings that led them to share rooms and eventually a bed. They supported one another and had a bond that transcended all else. Many years passed.
Eragon returned to the land of his birth late in the night and was quick to search out those he left behind. He found his way to a shared room at the top of a tower looking out over the land and slipped in the door. Inside he saw and old women, dark skinned and covered in scars, wrapped in the arms of an elf. And he smiled they had found peace.
The next time Eragon looked into the room the bed was empty, its sole remaining inhabitant no longer could find the numbness of sleep. He walked into the room and looked out the window on to the grave stone and a loan figure standing beside it. As he watched the figure drew out a dagger and with short cuts spilt its own life blood, falling to the ground over a still fresh grave. A dragon keened and then all was silent.