Disclaimer: I do not by any means own Eragon! (as much as i wish).

It was a fine Sunday afternoon. The sun shone brightly, warming everything in the valleys and on the mountains. There were a few wispy clouds scattered in the sky. It was one of those days, where everything was warmed by the sun, even though the air was crisp and there was a breeze. Eragon had unknowingly slept in, and the lights shone through the cave opening of his room. The Varden had built into the mountains for shelter. At the mouth of the cave, Saphira was laying down, her front claws hanging over the edge. Good morning, Eragon heard her say through her thoughts.

Eragon ran his fingers through his golden hair and sat up. His breakfast was sitting next to his bed on a tray. It looked as if it had been there for at least an hour. Good morning, he thought back. He grabbed an apple off of the tray of food and walked to the mouth of the cave. Saphira turned her head to look at him, as if she were waiting for something. Eragon looked back at her, then said aloud, "I think we should go flying today." Saphira's eyes brightened, but she didn't respond. Eragon smiled and turned to get dressed. He put on his black armor, lacing it up his back and on the inside of his arms. He tied on his belt, Zar'roc hanging from it.

He got his new riding saddle out, and strapped it on Saphira's back. Eragon could sense her excitement. They never really got the chance to have a leisure ride; it was always scouting for enemies, then fighting them. And even though Eragon never went out of the mountains without his armor, he knew Saphira would be fine, not to mention it was extremely heavy and took multiple people to get it on her.

Saphira leaned down and Eragon pulled himself into the saddle. She stood up straight, and walked to the mouth of the cave. Are you ready? She asked him. She was looking down the side of the mountain to the jagged rocks 200 feet below with a dangerous excitement.

"Always," Eragon replied, gripping the front of the saddle with one hand. The other was resting on his thigh.

Then hold on! She said, jumping out of the cave. She kept her wings close in towards her body until she was nearly on the ground. Then she pushed them out as far as they could go, letting the air catch them, and pull her away from the rocks. Eragon's heart raced as he leaned forward, leaning with every turn and movement Saphira made. He didn't have to tell her to go faster; she was already picking up speed. Her wings were folded against her again, and she barrel-rolled through the air at record speed. Eragon let out a yell, and almost lost his balance. He braced himself by grabbing with both hands at the front of the saddle.

After the both of them had gotten the need for speed out of their systems, Saphira went a little lower glided peacefully through the air. Despite the saddle in his way, Eragon leaned against her neck, laying on it. His face was still flushed from the beginning of the ride and his hair was blown back away from his face. It ruffled because of the wind. Eragon straightened up, and watched the ground below him pass by. Saphira did the same, and her exceptional vision caught something very peculiar up ahead of them, just to the right. Eragon, look. She said. She pointed to it with her nose, and Eragon followed her gaze.

I don't see it, he replied. Then, out loud, he used an elven spell. He got Saphira's vision, and she zeroed in on the object in question. "It looks like a person. And a horse. Maybe." But what are they doing all the way out here? He finished in his head. The nearest village wasn't even in sight, and besides wildlife and a few travelers on remote roads, he hadn't seen anyone throughout his ride. Let's go see.

Eragon, Saphira began, but didn't bother. She dove a little, until she was just above the trees. She slowed as much as she could, until she came to a clearing in the trees. Sure enough, the first thing Eragon saw was a stocky black horse tied to a branch. It stood at the edge of the trees, hanging its head half-asleep. Land, he told Saphira, I want to see what this is about. She hesitated, but dropped to the ground, landing lightly on her clawed feet. She narrowed her eyes and let a low, almost inaudible growl creep from her throat.

Eragon waited until Saphira was still, and then slid to the ground to investigate. The horse that was tied at the trees was dancing around nervously, but acted calmer than the usual reaction to Saphira. The horse was tall and stocky, with feathered feet and a long mane. But standing just in front of him was a girl. She couldn't have been any older than him.

She stood very still, just staring at Eragon. He was caught off guard by her. She wasn't very tall, but she was very toned. Her skin was olive tan. Her hair was dark burgundy-black, and fell down her back and shoulders in loose curls. Her bangs hung over half of her forehead, almost falling over her eye. And her eyes! Behind thick, dark lashes were the brightest, most beautiful green eyes Eragon had ever seen.

His eyes drifted from her face and hair to the rest of her. She was wearing a white dress, that hugged her body until it reached her hips, where it fell around her. If she twirled and danced it would fan around her. The sleeves rested on the edges of her shoulders, and the neckline was a V that exposed her collarbone and the top of her tan chest.

Eragon just stood there, looking back at her; he didn't know what to make of the situation. He started to walk forward slowly; one slow step at a time. It seemed to him that the girl had relaxed a bit, and she took a few small steps towards him. "Hello, I, uh, didn't expect to see anyone out here." He said, mentally cursing himself. He heard Saphira chuckle inside his head. "I'm—"

"I know who you are." She cut him off. Her voice was strong and commanding, but also sounded soft at the same time. Her eyes searched him intensely. "You're Eragon, the Shade-Slayer. I've heard many stories about you."

"Well then," he said, more to himself. He closed the space between them and held out his hand. She only looked at it, turning her palms slightly behind her. Eragon furrowed his brow, and brought his arm down. Behind him, Saphira stretched her neck and watched the girl carefully, calculating her every move.

She looked straight at him. There was a certain look in her eyes that made him crazy. But some part of him was telling him to be careful. They stared into each other's eyes for a long time, before she broke away and looked at Saphira. Then she walked away, over to her horse. The skirt of her dress fanned out slightly as she walked. She ran her hand along the horse's neck, and it calmed. "It seems that you've managed to upset my horse—and my afternoon alone."

There was a certain edge in her voice in the last sentence that made Eragon regret landing in the clearing. He followed her, resting his left hand on Zar'roc's handle. He stopped a few feet behind her. Saphira stayed back, crouched into a defensive position with her eyes narrowed. She was constantly sniffing the air and flicking her tail in agitation. Be careful, Eragon. I don't like this, she warned him.

Eragon shrugged off her warning. "It seems that you who I am, but I know nothing of you." She smiled his most charming smile at her. She turned around to look at him.

"I am Aries. No one significant. I haven't killed any sorcerers, nor have I made history." She flipped her hair behind one shoulder, and then continued. "My father has an estate in the mountains, and I live there most of the time. I come out here for peace. He is always making me study or work."

"You're father must be a powerful man. Most don't have estates much anymore."

"Yes, well, we are well off." She replied shortly.

There was a long silence between them. "It is peaceful here, isn't it?" Eragon said thoughtfully, glancing around them. There was an innocent smile playing on Aries's lips.

"But what brings the great Eragon out here?" She asked him, locking him in her gaze. "Shouldn't you be preparing for battle?"

Eragon chuckled. "I took a day from all of that. We were just flying about with not direction when we saw you here. I wanted to make sure everything was fine."

"Well I can assure you, Eragon, Oberon and I can take care of ourselves." Aries said lightly, scratching the horses neck. But Eragon sensed that she was serious. Eragon looked at her quizzically. "Oberon is my horse," she said, still patting the horse. She untied him, and lifted herself into the saddle. "I really should go, I apologize. But it has been very nice talking to you. Best of luck!" She said, and spurred Oberon away from the clearing, leaving Eragon dumbstruck.

He walked back to Saphira, who was glaring at the trees where Aries had ridden away. "What's the matter with you?" He asked her.

There is something wrong with that, Eragon. She said. Don't trust her. She allowed Eragon to climb back into the saddle, and then she pushed off from the ground and sent them skyward. Did you ever see the palms of her hands?

Uh, Eragon thought hard about his conversation with her, No. What significance does that have?

Saphira snorted, and sped up her flying. Let's get back to the mountain; the Varden must be curious as to where we are.

Meanwhile, Aries was still riding back to her home. She thought about how he had fallen so easily when he had seen her. Step one was always so simple. Oberon kept a steady pace and stayed on track while she was lost in her thoughts. The sky had begun to grow dark, with only a hint of orange and pink on the western horizon. Just as the last hints of light left the mountains and valleys, she traveled up the long drive to her father's estate. She knew he wouldn't be there to reprimand her; he was in Gil'ead. The only people in the house were servants.

As she trotted up into the yard of the stable, a boy came out and took Oberon from her. "Have a good ride, Miss?" He mumbled as she glided past him. She nodded curtly in response, and climbed the stairs to the house.

Inside the house was dark; the entrance hall looked eerie and still with the ornate tapestries and paintings on the walls. No candles were lit, and the tables were only dark shadows. She traveled through the rest of the house, looking for any sign of another person. When she found nothing but the cook asleep in a chair, she went to her own bedroom to sleep. She didn't rest well, though, for she knew she would be making a trip to Gilead tomorrow. She had to tell her father his plans might work.

R&R please! what do you think? should I continue?