Disclaimer: I do not own the owned!

Warning: Rated "M" for violence (coming soon), several dark scenes riddled throughout the story, and the occasional sex scene. There will probably be some OOC'ness too since I haven't read the books in a while.

Author's Note: Fortunately, the first several chapters of this story are written already and I have ideas for more that I'll write down tonight or as soon as I can anyways. Well, I hope this chapter isn't too painful to read and if you like it, rest assured that more is coming.

Enjoy! (hopefully)

Chapter 2: Making Sense of the Senseless

When Eragon awoke, he was lying in a sweaty and tangled heap, his arms and legs intertwined with another woman's body – a woman's body.

Katrina!

Shock woke up Eragon fast, and soon the young Rider was blushing madly as he realised just what position they had fallen in. Somehow, Eragon had landed on his back with his head snug between her legs.

The poor woman was curved around with one hand on his thigh and the other on his chest, her head also resting on a very erm, soft part. Swallowing hard, Eragon disentangled himself from Katrina.

Wobbling slightly, he stumbled backwards and heaved a yawn. Stretching his weary limbs, he arched his back and rubbed his eyes getting the sleep out of them. When he was as awake as he could have been, he breathed deeply of the fresh sea breeze and...

Huh? Having just woken up from fainting, Eragon was not as quick-witted as he would have liked. So it took a few minutes, but he finally saw that he was standing on the silver shores of a long beach that wound in a curve around and behind him.

In front of him, light blue waves splashed onto the beach. The wind danced through his hair and the sun rested lazily in the bed of the sky. Eragon was frozen in pleasant surprise as realization dawned on him: It was peaceful here.

A sense of calming, soothing tranquillity that could not be found on the war-torn battlefront he had called home for the past couple years. He was amazed at how incredibly quiet it was and how still things were when you and a sleeping beauty were the only two beings on a previously unknown island.

Eragon's brow wrinkled in consternation. Island? Was that where they were? It seemed so odd and out of place from the Varden or even the elves, that he could not quite think of this place like that. In fact, Eragon did not know how he even thought he was on an island in the first place.

He supposed it must have been the glimmering beach and the lush green foliage on a backdrop of endless blue ocean. All of this put to reason that he was on a beach, if the stories he heard of beaches from the Traders were to be believed.

Heaving a sigh, Eragon forced himself back to reality and tried to decide what to do. If they were on an island, then that meant Saphira must have capsized in that freak storm throwing them off course into some random island. The disturbing thing was that there were no islands near Hellgrind.

If he remembered correctly, the tattered map in Lady Nasuada's tent told him that there were none in the general district since Hellgrind was in the dead centre of the main continent of Alagaësia. So it was inconceivable to think that they had crash-landed in some unknown island.

True many were not charted yet since no one had any reason to travel to an uninhabited island what with the war and all, but it was too unreal for them to have journeyed so far in what seemed like such a short time. Then again, there was the sand and there was the tropical forest and the sprawling, vast ocean.

Letting his shoulders sag in resignation, he decided that they had to be located on an island and decided to wake up Katrina so as to explain what the heck was going on and where they were. Then perhaps they could brainstorm for a way to get out of here and reunite with Saphira.

Saphira.

Eragon's heart sank as he realised he and Katrina had been torn away from his dragon partner. Because they had obviously been blown away so far somehow or another, there was no telling where she was. Saphira could have been anywhere and possibly not even on the island.

But Eragon hoped she was and prayed to whatever gods there were that she was safe. He vowed to find her as soon as he was able, and worried for her that she was injured or stuck. Storms were not good for dragons and, perhaps, their worst enemy.

Wanting to find whatever trace of her he could, he closed his eyes and reached out with his consciousness for Saphira. Much to his dismay, his search ended in failure. Saphira was not to be found or if she was it was not here, on this abominable island.

Coming to think of it, he could not even spot any animal life – not even an insect. Either they were far away, good at hiding themselves, or nonexistent. Not knowing what else to do, Eragon opened his eyes again and trudged over to Katrina wary of her freaking out. That was the last thing he'd need.

In a few quick steps, he reached her and squatted down on his knees pausing for a moment to watch her sleep. He felt like a creepy stalker, but couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was. Long copper tresses cascaded down her back and shoulders, loose strands of hair straying over her side.

Her skin was soft and pale, crying out to be touched. He grimaced to see a number of scabs and bruises. Her wrists were red and swollen from the iron gauntlets clamped around them, and there were heavy bags under her eyes. What was with Eragon and injured women?

Arya had looked much like this when he first found her although she was much worse off. Cursing at how fickle his attention was, he summed it all up to raging teenaged hormones – since he was, in fact, a teen – and decided to leave it at that. He shouldn't even be looking at Katrina in this way, considering their history and the circumstances.

She was Roran's woman and they were soon to be married. They hadn't actually gotten engaged, Roran had told him as he had been unable to ask her father's permission and ten she was captured. In addition and most importantly, Eragon still held hope that him and Arya might work out as crazy as that dream was. So why in the hells was he lusting after Katrina now?

"Damn bloody hormones!" Eragon muttered under his breath.

As his luck would have it, Katrina stirred and awoke jolting upwards – her bloodshot eyes darting about frantically. Her hands grasped at the air as if wanting to hold someone who wasn't with her. Eragon grimaced and quickly knelt before her, gently holding her hand and pulling her close.

Katrina protested at first but caved into the calming presence of the human touch after she saw who it was. Whatever madness from Hellgrind plagued her, Eragon glimpsed a flicker of hope in Katrina's eyes and was relieved that she still had a spark of memory left from the days before.

For a moment, they just sat there holding each other's hands and remembering. Then one thing led to another and before Eragon knew it, Katrina's arms were wrapped around him. She was holding onto him for dear life almost as sobs wracked her thin frame.

Life in the dungeons of Hellgrind had not been kind to his old friend from Carvahal and Eragon rued the day the Raz'zak had been born. Then none of this would have happened and they would have all been safe and sound back home where life mattered.

Roran would not be captured and the village would be at peace. Roran, again Eragon's heart fell fifty feet as he realised his cousin was probably in the iron fist of the Mad King Galbatorix who was most likely torturing him to a breaking point to get information about him and the Varden.

Eragon's grip tightened subconsciously on Katrina who seemed to appreciate it. It didn't help any that her ample chest pressed against his own, oblivious to their thin and soaked tunics. Eragon the Second stirred at contact, and blood rushed to the Dragon Rider's cheeks.

He buried his face in Katrina's shoulder and softly rubbed her back, telling her in a muffled voice that everything would be okay. But of course, he knew things would be the exact opposite and felt awful because of it.

Realising that things might soon get out of hand, he pulled back reluctantly and shifted uncomfortably to hide Eragon the Second (he wasn't too sure what to call his stiff member and hoped Katrina hadn't noticed it, but decided the name would have to do). If Katrina sensed his reaction, she paid no attention to the embarrassing fact.

Instead, she collapsed onto the sand and stared out into the ocean – her tear-streaked face dazed and listless. The two young people brooded in silence none wanting to break the contemplative stillness that had settled in the air. Once more, it was Katrina who broke the ice.

"Who are you and where am I?" She asked thickly.

Eragon started, having thought she recognized him from before. Were the dungeons that bad? It was only then that Eragon realised she hadn't seen him after the Dragon Magic until now and would not know this face was his own. Heaving a sigh, Eragon studied Katrina thoughtfully wondering how to break the myriad of changes to her.

"I can take it," She said, drying her cheeks with her sleeve and putting on a brave face. "I'm stronger than you think."

"Of course you are," Eragon said softly, and paused before nodding. "Alright, I shall tell you but brace yourself for this will come as a shock nasty shock, most of it anyways."

Katrina searched Eragon's eyes as if trying to decipher the truth from within them, but finally gave in and nodded.

"I'm ready," She said simply.

Eragon eyed her for a second longer before he began.

"While you might know me as Eragon," He said slowly and cautiously, watching carefully for Katrina's reaction. "I am also known as Shadeslayer, Shurtugal, Firesword, Brommson, and I am, in fact, a Dragon Rider. That she-dragon we flew on? She is Saphira, my Bond."

The world froze for the fraction of a second and Eragon braced himself for Katrina to snap. Thankfully, she didn't.

"Eragon?" She repeated dumbly as if the name sounded foreign to her.

Eragon winced, realising after a time that it would.

"Aye," He confirmed, then trying to lighten up the situation he added with a cheeky smile. "The one and only."

Katrina eyed him suspiciously.

"But you were only a boy when I last saw you," She accused.

"I resent that!" Eragon snarked playfully.

His efforts finally paid off, for Katrina favoured him with a weak smile.

"You mean Garrow's nephew and Roran's cousin?" Katrina asked slowly, as if afraid of the answer.

Eragon sighed.

"The same," He said.

"Oh," Was all Katrina could say. Then she added, much to Eragon's surprise. "You look like a tree spirit!"

"Hey!" Eragon gasped in mock offense.

He swatted her lightly on the arm with a teasing smile and Katrina glared at him something fierce. Eragon glared back and they held each other in a stare down for what seemed like an eternity.

Unfortunately, Eragon was the first to crack unable to stand staring in Katrina's beautiful hazel eyes and remembering what they saw. Fortunately for him, however, Katrina did not notice his dilemma as she burst into a giggle seemingly unable to hold it within her.

Eragon's lip twitched and Katrina burst into an all-out laughter. The joyous sound was infectious and Eragon soon found himself laughing just as hard, if not more so. Feeling extra-mischievous, Eragon launched himself into a tickle fight with Katrina like they used to do so long ago when they were children.

Katrina's eyes widened in pretend horror as she always did and faked a scream only to lunge for Eragon's sides. Eragon renewed his effort and laughed until he cried, as he and Katrina tickled each other. It was so unbelievable at how such a childish act could bring such amusement in even the direst of times.

As much as Eragon hated to admit it, it actually felt like a breath of fresh air to recall those good old days and rekindle a sense of the past, the good one that he hadn't revisited in forever. But the duo soon gave into exhaustion and collapsed on top of each other wheezing and gasping for breath, as they chuckled weakly and dabbed their faces.

Breathing deeply, Eragon just lay there, with Katrina on his chest, as the memories of his childhood flooded back to him. Well, it would have been a rendition of his childhood memories had he and Katrina not been grown adults with adult bodies.

Cursing inwardly at bring his mind back to that awkwardness, he heaved a sigh and sat up slowly bringing Katrina into a sitting position along with him. Still leaning on his chest, Katrina looked up into his face her eyes filled with an impassive expression.

"What happened?" She asked tentatively, her long and nimble fingers curling curiously through his new and princely hair.

Eragon frowned, not wanting this moment to end but realised that he was treading on a fine line with Roran's girl.

"Lots of things," He retorted.

Katrina sighed and rolled her eyes.

"You know what I mean," She said with a thin smile, poking him lightly in the chest.

"Okay, okay!" Eragon chuckled, holding his arms up in surrender.

Scooting into a more comfortable position with Katrina resting her head on his lap like the times of old, Eragon slowly but surely recounted all his adventures and trials – every bit of it, even Arya as much as he was embarrassed to discuss. Katrina laughed and cried in all the right places and gasped when he told her of his fight with the Shade and confrontation with Murtagh.

She let loose a string of dirty curse words at the betrayal like a loose sailor, making Eragon blush furiously. Then, he was finished. When he fell silent, they remained so for a while as they thought long and hard over all that was said and done. Eragon felt it was only proper to be the first one to speak.

"I won't mind, you know," He stammered. "If you'll hate me..."

His voice trailed off uneasily and could not bring himself to look Katrina in the eye. It was all because he ran away with Saphira and Brom that their troubles started. It was all his fault. She should hate him!

"Hate you?" Katrina asked incredulously and Eragon was pleasantly surprised to feel as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "I could never hate you."

"But how?" Eragon asked, his voice cracking. "Everything happened because of me, damn it!"

"Well someone sure has a strong sense of his own self importance," Katrina retorted.

Eragon rolled his eyes.

"You know what I mean," He sighed.

"No I don't," Katrina said resolutely.

Eragon blinked and glanced down at her, stunned to see a firm look in her eyes.

"Why?" Eragon demanded. "I want to know, I need to know!"

"Because I..." Katrina started, but her cheeks turned pink and she looked away causing Eragon to go into panic mode at what she had possibly said. "Because I am your first and always friend, Eragon. I will care for you no matter what."

"Even if Roran thinks differently about me?" Eragon asked, feeling a bitter taste on the tip of his tongue.

"Yes," Katrina whispered, holding him tighter. "Even if."

"Well," Eragon resolved. "I think I can live with that."

Having said mostly everything that needed to be said, Eragon contented himself with silence and enjoyed being with Katrina like they were when they were old friends back home. He was greatly relieved that she didn't ask embarrassing questions about Arya or even Saphira.

He was grateful for her trust in him, that age-old bond of friendship that he didn't even share with the elf woman of his dreams. Struggling to make sense of the senseless, Eragon was lost in thought while idly twisting his fingers through Katrina's long, auburn hair.

A/N: Chapter 2 is finished and more is on the way, I hope you like it!