Disclaimer- I do NOT in any way own anything from the Inheritance trilogy.

This isn't an entire story, but it's this idea I had a long time ago, shortly after Eldest was released. I dug it up, edited it a bit and thought I should post it to see what everyone else thinks. The characters seem a bit odd and not like themselves, but I couldn't think of any better ways to phrase what they did and said, so... This is something that could potentially be used later in my Empire fic. I believe, in writing terms, this would be called a one-shot? Anyways, I hope you like it, and please R&R!!!

Though the fight was over, destruction was all that could be said of the scenery that surrounded the Varden. Pieces of the hillside continued to crumble and roll down to their campsite, causing everyone to pick up their belongings and run. Flames were still being extinguished as they engulfed tents, brush, and anything else it touched. A putrid scent filled the air of rotting flesh and burning possessions. The chaos that had existed moments before was now subsided into stern concentration on cleaning up the repercussion of the battle.

With his hands behind his back, Eragon strode across the deserted path flanked by the healing tents. He acknowledged neither anyone's nod in his direction nor any admiring comments from other fighters. When he wasn't pacing, he was fiddling with his hands or looking out to the horizon as if expecting something to come from it. At long last, he could no longer sustain walking repetitively to and fro, and seated himself on a log in front of a fire. He put his hands up to it, though he wasn't the least bit cold.

When Nasuada seated herself next to him, Eragon didn't take the slightest notice. "Are you alright, Eragon? You seem distant this morning."

Eragon turned his head to face her. "I-I'm just… yeah, I guess I'm a bit dazed. Last night was rough on me."

She grinned slightly. "No surprises there. You killed more Urgals than any of us can count!" She averted her wandering eyes to the ground. "And, of course, there's Murtagh. None of us expected him to be here." She didn't speak for a few moments, as if thinking on her own words. "But something else is on your mind. I can see it in your eyes." She shifted to face him and clasped his hands. "Tell me, Eragon, what is it that's bothering you so?"

At first, no response came from him. Then he buried his face in his hands and choked-back tears from long before gave way. "I don't know what I'm going to do! I have to murder my own brother to defeat Galbatorix; I have to keep away from nearly everyone I know; hundreds of innocent lives died for me last night- hundreds!" His tear-stained face rose from beneath his fingers. "Look what happened to Arya! Who is to blame for her wounds? Me! And you and your men were brutally injured and diverted because I told Saphira to attack the Urgals instead of protect you. I am also to blame for that. How much more calamity will I cause? How many more lives will be lost for me, when they are losing them for nothing? I don't know how much more of this I can take."

Eragon stood to his feet, brushing away at his glazed eyes. "Forgive me, my liege. I am weeping in your wake when I should be receiving instructions from you. I have acted rudely." He gave a small bow and spoke with his utmost regret.

Nasuada stepped toward him and put her hand on his shoulder. "You needn't feel guilty for sharing with me your sorrows. There is no one here who doesn't have their own. Yours, however, are much deeper than most others. You feel more powerfully than some could even begin to imagine." Eragon looked into her eyes and saw pity and sincerity. "You should have some rest. I know you're tired, and you deserve the sleep."

"No, I can wait until I hear how Arya's doing."

"Very well, then. I hope you feel better soon, Eragon. May your spirits rise and your wounds be healed, inside and out. Atra esterní ono thelduin."

"Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr."

"Un du evarínya ono varda."

"Thank you, Nasuada," said Eragon with another bow. "I won't forget your kind words."

As she walked away, Eragon sat once more, his back to the campsite. As she turned to enter one of the tents, she gave him a fleeting look before walking inside. He clasped a hand around the handle of his sword while the other clenched into a tight fist. If even Nasuada is worried for me, I must be in more danger than I thought. Eragon was disturbed with everything that was happening. He didn't know what to do or where to start. He was greatly comforted at the sound of a gentle and reassuring voice in the distance.

Eragon?

Saphira.

How are you, little one? I heard your conversation with Nasuada.

I'm alright. And you?

I am well, so long as you are. I only wish you would have talked to me about how you feel about all this. A dragon and their rider are supposed to share everything with one another.

Yes, I know. I just… didn't want you to worry.

At this, she chuckled slightly. It's my job to be concerned about you, Eragon, and likewise you to me. That will never change, no matter how old we grow to be.

Eragon nodded, silently agreeing. How's Roran? I haven't spoken with him all day.

It seems to me that he's doing fine; though he hasn't taken a single breathe from brooding over Katrina.

I can't say I'm surprised. Roran holds everyone he loves close to his heart and he loves Katrina more than anything.

You must introduce me to her when we meet.

Of course. Eragon stood as Saphira landed next to him and rumbled the ground. She was no longer wearing her battle armour, but Eragon could still make out scrapes and bruises from the fight. All of her serious injuries had been healed, and to his delight, the slight limp Saphira had in her front right leg had disappeared. He placed his hand on her shoulder and she responded with a soft hum. Her scales shimmered in the rising sun, reflecting a brilliant blue. Though her claws and spikes were still tarnished with red, no other signs of combat showed.

And how fairs Arya?

I'm afraid I do not know. They haven't allowed any visitors in her tent, except for Islanzadi. She just went in a few moments ago.

Then we must wait.

Aye, we must wait.

Looking out to the horizon stood Saphira and Eragon, side by side. They watched as the sun rose higher and the dawn of battle turned to day. The small fire that was once crackling behind them had burned down to embers. Dwarves and elves alike were welcoming the new day with great joy and celebration. In spite of the merriment that encircled the camp, neither dragon nor rider made any attempt to move. The tranquility they had long desired was finally influencing them once more.

So, what does everyone think? Please leave a review and let me know! Just remember that I wrote this a long time ago, so it's not really up at the top of my writing capabilities. I just thought I should get some input on how this small piece works and if I should use it. And don't worry, I am working on Empire. I'm not sure when the third chapter will be posted, but... Cross your fingers that it'll be soon. Your reviews will let me know that I should continue working on it.

"Atra guliä un ilian tauthr ono."

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