A/N: So, here's the second part to the last chapter. Hope you all enjoy.

The elf Queen sifted through the numerous papers she had brought with her to Ilirea, convinced that there had to be some kind of hint to what had captured Eragon. All he spoke of were his riders, however, and of their abilities. Her only lead was his last letter, speaking not only of his newest recruits, but also including the one line that betrayed any emotion whatsoever. The entire letter read:

Arya,

My riders have been faring well, save for my newest group. It doesn't seem like they are learning very much, though I am trying very hard, and hope to help them grow into fine warriors. The five of them do not work as well as I would have liked them to, but they have not been working long and I stand by my statement that in time, they may be great. They can fly faster as well as swing a sword much quicker than my other groups, and that I can use as a foundation. I am happy that the elves, as well as the Eludanrí, are here to help me. I miss you.

-Eragon

She frowned. It was not like him to say such things; in his other letters to her, which numbered close to 100, he had never spoken of his gratefulness or of his emotions towards her nor anyone else. Other than those letters, she had only one note to see that he had been in trouble; a single sheet of paper with two words in thinly written ink, indicating that he had written it quickly. The paper was ripped and burnt around the edges, suggesting that he sent it to her in a hurry, and her certainty of this could be shown in the fact that he did not send it through conventional means. No, Arya was sure that he had sent it to her in the same way that she had sent him Saphira's egg in the Spine so many years ago.

It read: "Help us"

Her gaze had been fixed on the paper until three other elves came into her peripheral vision. They looked ready to fight, which was a good thing, but sometimes Arya thought about how they could fall under her command, and it saddened her until she willing the thoughts away. "Yes?"

"We have received word from the riders, and they will be here in six days."

"So soon?"

"It seems so, Queen Arya."

They left her presence and she took a breath of air on the outside balcony nearby, remembering that she had contacted the riders four days before, and that they started their journey then. Would it really take them ten days to go from lands unknown to the capital of Alagaësia? Such a feat should be acknowledged, Arya decided, and would suggest to Nasuada that they both throw a feast for the arrival of their new apprentices. She would include Murtagh in the feast, knowing that he deserved it as well as any other rider.

After that, however, Arya did not know how they would fare. If they were just as Eragon suggested they were, then her job was going to be quite hard, and even more so if Murtagh did not accept Nasuada's plea.

Sunlight streamed on her face and she closed her eyes, content with letting the sun bathe her, if only for a moment. She had been so used to the cold of Ellesméra, the heat and warm wind of Ilirea felt as a luxury to her. Several moments later, a dark-haired man came into her presence, his scent that of wild trees and the frigid cold of the north. Arya recognized it as Murtagh without turning to look, and she asked him, "Have you made your decision?"

He answered immediately, creating a sort of comfort within the older elf. "I have."

"You will stay and fight, then?" her royal gaze switched to him, a single eyebrow raised.

"I will."

"Very well," a pause. "we will have a feast in your honor, and in the honor of the arriving riders. They will be here in six days. Until then, I would advise not leaving the city."

A single growl was heard, followed by a much deeper one, both coming from the same area in the outside courtyard that lay not-too-far from the castle. There were several shrieks of alarm, sending both the elf and human sprinting towards the danger.

There was a large blob of green and red tangled together in the middle of the courtyard, wrecking benches and stone tables alike. Humans that had otherwise been relaxing there had long ran off at the sight of the dragons, and even faster once they began to fight. Murtagh, alarmed, attempted to reach Thorn with his mind and tell him to stop attacking the other dragon, but his companion was completely focused on the smaller creature. To his surprise, Arya was doing nothing.

"You aren't going to do anything?" he asked with a worried expression on his face.

"They aren't fighting. Look closer," she pointed at the green dragon. "Fírnen is not attempting to bite Thorn, merely trying to be the dominant one."

"Fírnen? Of whom does this dragon belong?"

"To I."

He nodded in understanding and watched the two fight for a few more minutes, just as Arya was, though after a few minutes he asked, "Would it be safe for me to leave?"

"Yes, I will keep an eye on them for the time being. They seem to be excited to see another dragon. Fírnen has only seen one before, and it has been a long time for them both."

"Indeed it has. I must speak to Nasuada, however, have you any idea where she is?"

"Aye, she should be in the room next to her throne."

He had not ran and he had not dawdled as he made his way to the room beside the throne, of which two guards stood in front of and did not spare Murtagh so much as a glance when he came into their presence. The door was slightly open, though he couldn't hear anything coming from inside.

"I request Queen Nasuada's presence."

"She is busy at the moment, you may come back in the eve-"

"Let him in, Nenst," Murtagh heard her voice from inside the room. The two guards slowly stepped away from each other and allowed Murtagh to open the door and enter. Nasuada stood in the middle of the floor, wearing a blue, lightweight dress that allowed for easy movement. In her right hand was a thin sword, which he guessed was rather lightweight, as she seemed to be handling it without much effort. On her left forearm was a wooden shield, and on her brow was beading sweat that proved her fight to have gone on for most of the morning.

She had paused to greet him, but other than that, did not speak another word. It was most likely because she was busy fending off the hulking man in front of her, attempting to hit her with increasing efforts. Murtagh resisted the urge to break up the sparring match, but let his palm rest on the hilt of Zar'roc, just in case.

Nasuada moved with surprising ease, as if her body were fluid; as if time had not touched her bones or muscles as they did the wrinkles around her eyes and the several gray strands in her hair that would be sure to multiply in the coming years. It then occurred to him that even though he was older than she, it was her that would be transformed by time, not him. He would live for as long as he could stay alive, and she would not. She would die soon, and he would not. She was mortal, and he was not.

How brutal it felt to be capable of loving something death could touch without the help of a knife or poison.

It was with a troubled gaze that he watched the two go back and forth; it was not hard to tell that the soldier was not fighting to his best ability. Once their match was over, Nasuada panted lightly and gave Murtagh a tight smile. "I take it you've made your decision?"

"Yes, and I choose to stay."

"Thank you, truly. I didn't expect you to come, but…" she trailed off. He tilted his head, wishing that she would finish her sentence, but she never did.

"Have you had your fill of sparring for today? It might be good to face a new opponent once in a while," he suggested, unsheathing his sword. The smile on his lips was friendly but challenging, and in response, Nasuada held her own sword up in a defensive manner. They circled each other for a minute or two before he jabbed at her elbow; she dodged before he thought she would and pushed him back with her shield, throwing him slightly off course. Stumbling back half a step, he parried her following blow and swung a wide arc for her shoulder, which she successfully blocked and countered.

Back and forth they went, never landing a blow and never missing the opportunity to dodge or block each other's attacks. Murtagh couldn't say that she was a match for him if he truly meant to harm her, but for now, her movements were sufficient.

While they dodged and parried, he could see all of her weak spots and realized how easy it would be for him to hit her without meaning to; knowing this disgusted him to his very core, as he would never mean to hurt Nasuada, but she was not the fighter that he was. She was not ravenous for blood, nor was she merciless or steadfast. This was why he stopped, taking a step back and declaring the spar over.

"A tie," he announced, though she didn't seem satisfied. "Don't make that face," he raised an eyebrow at her pout.

"I am not a weak old woman," she answered.

"I say no such thing of you."

"Then why will you not fight me?"

They were already nearby each other, and with one stride he came closer, sheathing his sword all the while. It came to mind that he was an entire head taller than her, the top of her hair meeting his chin. Placing a careful, calloused hand on her cheek, he spoke with a low voice so that no one could hear. "I will never hurt you again, not even if it meant giving up everything I've ever known."

And with that, he stalked out of the room, leaving Nasuada to feel the ghost of his hand still upon her cheek.

Nasuada heard a knock at her door, though she was hesitant to answer it. If it were Murtagh, she would not know what to say, though she knew that it couldn't be anything demeaning to him. She needed him to stay and help, no matter the cost of her pride, and no matter how much she disliked being treated as an inferior. Even if it was from the deepest pits of his heart that he stopped their afternoon spar, she still did not like being treated as weak; even when he wanted nothing more than to keep her from being hurt.

She laughed at herself, for she realized how ironic her thoughts were.

Another knock dispersed her thoughts and she flung the door open, now without reserve, only to catch the eye of a rather amused elf woman in her doorway. "Something funny?"

"No, I was only laughing at myself. Please, come in."

Moving on, Arya proposed, "We should have a feast in the honor of the riders that are to come to us, as well as Murtagh."

"Ah, but of course! And for you as well, Arya."

"I could not ask so much of you for myself-"

"No, I insist. You have come all the way from Ellesméra, and have agreed to fight alongside us. For that, you and your people deserve to relax and celebrate our coming together. I have also sent word to the dwarves, Urgals, and to Surda. I contemplated contacting the Wandering Tribes, though I haven't yet."

"…Thank you, Nasuada. Your kindness is sobering."

"In times such as these, I cannot afford to be cruel."

Arya nodded in understanding, and then a very small, almost invisible smile lifted her lips. It was a fraction of an inch, and it barely touched her eyes, but it was the smug look of a cat that was expecting a large tub of cream at her disposal. "…What?" Nasuada asked, wondering what was on the elf's mind.

"The rumors have begun already."

The Queen blushed and looked down. "I do not know what you're talking about."

"Of course you do not," Arya shrugged. "and I know better than to believe rumors, but their words are consistent, and they spread like wildfire…"

"For goodness sake, what did they say?"

"Your guards seem to be under the impression that you have a hidden romance going on with our newest ally."

"You mean Murtagh?"

The elf Queen nodded.

"Such silly words," the dark-skinned woman swallowed the growing lump in her throat.

"If you harbor any feelings for him, then maybe you are in a simple state of denial-"

"You are excused, Queen Arya."

After a moment, the elf bowed her head and walked out of the room. When she had one foot out the door, however, she turned and spoke one more sentence. "The riders will be here in six days, and King Orrin will be here in two."

Nasuada was left to her thoughts.

A/N: Okay, I know that a lot didn't happen in this chapter, but from here on out, the drama's gonna get heavy. I won't be able to make my next update for quite a few days, but I'll be working on the outlines for the upcoming chapters for you guys! Wow, two updates in a day. It sounds a lot easier than it really is, hah. Anyway, you can bet your butts that I'm gonna include some heartbreak, jealousy, corruption, and all that good stuff (including some death and maybe some happiness at the end if you guys are good to me) in the rest of the chapters. Hopefully they'll be longer too! Reviews are appreciated~.