Hey everyone who's following! Sorry for the long wait, I wanted to update sooner but I was on holiday with no PC. Thanks for the reviews and the advices, starting a story for the first time is quite a new experience for me and it's helpful to receive some suggestions.

So this is the chapter of Arya's first appearance, I hope it's going to mirror at least something of her character. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

The Inheritance Cycle belongs to CP.

Chapter 2

He was falling on the dusty ground, blood flowing from a cut over his left eyebrow and obscuring his eyesight. Lying on his back, he was struggling to pick himself up again but he was made unable to because of a shooting pain from his ribs.

He heard heavy footsteps coming towards him and a black shadow stood out over him.

"You shouldn't have tried to fight me, Eragon. There is no way for you to defeat me."

The man was coming nearer, then he stopped and raised his right glowing hand towards him.

But suddenly a dull sound broke the sky and a silver spark coming from behind him appeared in Eragon's view. He blinked, seeing out of the corner of his eye a dart plunged at the man's feet.

Forcing himself to turn, he could see the slender figure of a woman before a loud roar awakened him.

Eragon!

He jumped on his coat, bewildered by the power of the mental shout coming from his dragon. From out of his tent, he could hear Saphira making a strange sound that he understood as a snort.

Your sleep was as hard as a rock, she told him.

Sorry, Saphira, I was having an incredibly vivid dream. Never have I had one like that since the Agaeti Blodhren., he said, sending her some images of his dream while he was getting up from his cot.

He reached his basin and washed his face with cold water, trying to refresh his bleary mind.

It's certainly curious. But maybe it was simply caused by the after-effects of last night, she said wisely. Even so you should hurry, the meeting is starting in a little while.

He gave her the equivalent of a mental nod and started washing himself. After having accurately shaved and dressed, he left his tent and joined the blue dragoness who was waiting for him to take off. He jumped on her back and soon after she left him at the entrance of Nasuada's tent.

I'm going to search for Solembum, little one. I get excessively bored with human politics.

He smiled at her, caressing her right side before she left and waiting for the permission of the guards at the entrance who soon gestured him to enter with a light bow. He nodded to them and went in, immediately noticing Nasuada at the other extremity of a long, wooden and crowded table. She was standing in a bright purple dress that was making her dark skin standing out even more. But Eragon could not help glancing at the occupied seat at the right of the Varden leader.

Motionlessly seated, there was a beautiful, raven-black haired woman. In comparison to Nasuada, the elven ambassador was simply dressed, with black leggings and a green tunic that clung her thin and slender waist but somehow this intensified the aura of fascination that surrounded her figure. Two pointy ears seemed to escape her flowing hair and accentuated the effect of diversity caused by her almost almond-shaped eyes. Her visage was impassive and static as her body, except for her bright, emerald eyes, the most evident suggestion of her power of will.

Quickly, Eragon returned his attention to his liege lord, bowing his head as a sign of respect.

"Eragon." She lightly smiled to him. "I'm glad you've joined us. Please, take a seat."

He nodded and took the empty seat at her left.

"As you all know, we have a crucial decision to make. Our first priority is to choose if to stay within this walls for the next season or to try to move forward before winter's arrival."

Then Nasuada sat down and waited for the unavoidable buzz caused by her statement.

The meeting was long and tedious and Eragon stood silent for most of the time, disposed to speak only if asked. He couldn't truly enjoy the means of politics but he knew that as a rider and as Nasuada's vassal his duty was to be alert. Furthermore, he was forcing himself not to stare at Arya directly too much, as he was trying not to annoy her showing openly his feelings. Nevertheless he couldn't help himself but steal some random glances at her direction.

He noticed that, as Nasuada, when she decided to speak she always seemed able to address the discussion to her point, showing no sign of impatience at the stubbornness of some council members.

Finally, Nasuada decided to adjourn the reunion for the next day and Eragon was free to leave, after being dismissed by his liege lord.

Deciding to walk back to his tent, he let his mind wander and soon he recollected his dream.

He didn't know but he knew that the man of his dream was Murtagh, his figure was too familiar to him to be mistaken. He felt a pang of pain at the thought of his last fight with his half-brother.

I can't beat him. He thought bitterly.

His trains of thoughts were interrupted by noticing the slender figure of the elven ambassador scrutinize the horizon, seated on the peak of the hill. Unable to resist, he walked towards her, making sure to be heard by her perceivable ears.

She didn't turn but waited for him to join her. Reassure by her calm, Eragon seated next to her, looking towards the front too.

"Shadeslayer."

"Shadeslyer", he replied, grinning.

Her features softened, revealing a light smile on her lips.

"From the outside, this must seems a ridiculous conversation", he carried on.

"Indeed."

He looked at her and decided to risk a question, curious about her behaviour.

"You seem to be deep in thoughts, Arya Svit-kona." He paused, hesitant. he knew too well that she was reclutant to open up to other people. "May I ask if you are worried about something?"

Arya didn't answer immediately but she hugged her legs and leaned her chin on her knee.

Eragon waited, with a little apprehension, hoping to not having crossed the boundaries of their frail relationship.

"I am, Eragon."

Her voice was a soft whisper but he could hear her and his eyes widened a bit, showing his surprise for her unexpected, blunt answer. He was going to question her more when he heard Saphira speaking in his mind.

Hush, little one. Give her some time to open herself to you.

Thank you, Saphira.

Pleased, she retreated from his mind. He was still tempted to ask but decided to not break the silence, hoping that she would continue.

Finally, Arya turned her head and looked at him for the first time. He could see the gleam in her eyes and he tried to stare back at her with intensity.

"I am, Eragon", she repeated. "We are so close to the end, to the end of this war and if we fail before it we could not have another favourable opportunity. We are so close."

He saw her fists clench and unclench and suddenly he understood. The decision about the winter issue could be fatal, if the council was going to make the wrong choice they could loose their hopes to defeat Galbatorix and maybe be defeated because of the cold or starvation. And Arya could not permit that. She had lost too much because of Galbatorix. First her father, then her friends.

Faolin, he thought with a painful grip on his stomach.

And she sacrificed all her life to this purpose, even her relationship with her mother.

Without thinking, he put his right hand on her shoulder and, even if he felt her stiffen, he didn't release the grip.

"Arya", he said with all the determination he could muster. "You won't permit it. And I won't. Nor Saphira. We will arrive at the gates of Uru'Baen, I promise you. You are not alone facing this."

He released her shoulder but continued to look at her in the eyes. After a few moments, she relaxed and turned to look again at the horizon. They stayed there for a while, silent, watching in the distance.

I promise you.