Romance was the winner for this chapter, though I'm afraid I kind of failed many people's expectations on the matter - oh well. Disclaimer is unnecessary at this point I would think :)

"I'm the most important person in the lives of almost everyone I know and a good number of the people I've never even met."

David Sedaris

Finally, they had left Illirea for Ellesmera. He had thought traveling with the elves wouldn't be that big of a deal, them having their magically enhanced bodies and all. I mean, it shouldn't take them too long to get to Ellesmera, right? If they made good time, they should be able to get to the city in seven days, seeing as they were taking an indirect route to Du Weldenvarden, saving them the demanding trek across the Hadarac Dessert. At least, this is what Eragon was thinking when he had mounted Saphira earlier that afternoon. And when they were high above the clouds, towering over the caravan of sixteen elves below them, the sun had climbed towards the center of the sky, at its highest peak then. But now? It was slowly sinking over the other side of the horizon. You'd think that after a couple of hours of traveling, that they would have made good distance, leaving the city of Illyria far behind them.

Ha.

They were naught but three leagues away from the city's front gates. Yes, you had read that correctly. Three leagues - how pathetic. Now why is that? What could have possibly hindered them so, as to only travel three leagues in six hours? Why, it was the caravan itself. They were flaccid, pampered, self-absorbed nitwits, who found the idea of skipping midafternoon tea utterly ridiculous. Yes. They stopped for tea, and dear God, let's not forget brunch as well. So, every time someone reminded the others of a particular unnecessary activity, they had to stop, unpack, and rest. Then of course, pack everything up again – the tents, the chairs, and the tables.

Eragon had done little but watch the whole arrangement, refusing any offerings of tea and dessert. No, he did not want a parfait, and yes, he was sure. His presence was forgotten as Eragon sat silently in the corner, mocking them within his head in alphabetical order.

It was earlier that afternoon when Eragon first encountered this absurd happening.

Brom, Eragon, and Saphira were playing a game of wits and riddles, in which Brom was thoroughly failing. They had only been in the sky for an hour or two when a strange tendril skimmed the presence of their mind – it was King Evandar. Requesting them to stop, Saphira plunged back down towards the group.

"Why are we stopping?" Eragon inquired, his voice laced with both concern and curiosity. Brom just raise his eyebrows and shrugged.

Down below, the arrangement of sixteen elves, seven guards for both Arya and Evandar, had dismounted their horses; one of the elves led them away to graze. By this time, Brom and Eragon had jumped off of Saphira, both of whom were confused as to why one of the elves was setting up a wooden table. Yes, a table. And to top it all off? It came with a matching set of chairs. The equipment was quickly made with excess branches the elves found. Eragon and Brom stood, nonplussed, as the elves engaged in conversation as they pulled pastries and confections from obscure storage places and laid them out on the table. And slowly, one by one, they sat down at the table, laughing and eating their sweets; even Brom had joined them, wolfing down several cucumber slices covered in cream cheese. Eragon was disturbed.

They were having a tea party.

Were they not supposed to travel to Ellesmera for an emergency meeting, involving the destruction of the Riders? Surely, the meeting was more important than a couple of cakes, right? Eragon stood in the background, his shocked face and confused posture going unnoticed for several minutes.

Arya too, was talking animatedly with her father, though about what, Eragon couldn't make out. He wasn't staring. He was just looking at her, again, no big deal. In her hand was some sort of purple lump powdered with sugar. She did not wear the tunics and leather leggings that Eragon was familiar with, but rather a white dress that suited her form, accentuating the dips and curves of her body, a strip of green cloth serving as a belt around her waist. It wasn't exactly traveling attire. He couldn't help but watch her though. It mattered little about what she was wearing – she still managed to captivate his attention.

He wasn't staring.

It was at this moment, that Arya had turned her head. He caught her eye, and she smiled, her hand motioning over the colorful array of sweets upon the table.

"Come and join us Eragon; it's time for midafternoon tea."

He did not return the smile. He wasn't going to join this mad activity. He simply nodded his head, declining her offer. She scrunched up her eyebrows, the smile leaving her face. She stood up and glided over to him. Surly, she was unaware of his heartbeat, that seemed to beat louder and louder with every step she took towards him. He did not blush though, for the shock of seeing her alive and well had worn off. But that didn't make him any less nervous of course, but he hoped that Arya bought his calm and serious façade.

"Do you feel ill Eragon?" she asked, her words curling at the end in the elven fashion, hinting at a slight accent which he himself found endearing.

Oh dear God, she was concerned. Over him nonetheless. Her hand began making its way towards the top of his head, but she stiffened, then returned to its previous position by her side. Arya seemed shocked and slightly embarrassed at what almost happened, while Eragon was slightly disappointed of the lack of contact.

"I am well, though slightly confused about this concession that you and your guards have arranged."

Now it was her turn to be confused, the blush Eragon had not noticed leaving her fine features. Her expression clearly said, what could possibly be confusing about tea? Eragon answered her unspoken question.

"At the moment, you all are having tea in the middle of the forest on our way to a very important emergency meeting involving the fall of the riders due to the fact that we are on the brink of war! And thanks to your colorful confectionaries, Brom's only concern at the moment involves the decision as to whether or not he should eat the green one or the blue one."

At his words, both Arya and Eragon chanced a glance at Brom, who was in fact, turning his head back and forth between a small green cupcake, and a blue looking patty, a serious expression etched into his face. Arya released a small giggle at the Rider's antics, her eyes watching Brom's expression. Even Eragon let loose a grin, though he was looking at Arya's features rather than the dessert table.

"I see your point, but as you said, the times have grown darker. What else are we to do but make the most of our time?"

But before Eragon could reply, the Princess turned around, ending the conversation, and leaving him alone at the edge of the camp.

Technically speaking, that's how things went the next time they stopped for unconventional reasons – the elves set up their table and its matching chairs, as Eragon silently brooded at the edges of the encampment, all the while, making up indirect insults at the stupidity of the matter. Every once in a while, he and Arya would catch the other's eye; it was she who would always look away though.

The sky was orange when they stopped again.

"What could it possibly be now?" Eragon muttered, agitation seeping through his words. Even Brom had grown tired of it all, though it was more of Saphira's influence really; she started complaining that Brom was getting too heavy, which he believed for some odd reason. Eragon had rolled his eyes and smiled at the comment, though Brom immediately set down the buttered toast he had been chewing previously.

His patience was thinning, as again, the table with its matching chairs was set up. Ah, but a new addition was made, as instead of confectionaries being pulled out of the bags, they were instead, tents. There were four – each for both he, Arya, Evander and Brom. He assumed the guards didn't have a tent, but that was beside the point. Why were they setting up camp for the night, when there were still hours of the day left? I mean, he would understand if they were all humans, seeing as they couldn't tell left from right in the dark, but seriously? These elves were highly trained warriors – hell, elves didn't even sleep. What did they expect him to do? Lie awake on his cot the whole night?

He was done.

Jumping off of Saphira, Eragon landed on his feet amidst the dusty ground, plumes of brown smoke flying in his wake. This caught everyone's attention, and they watched him with suspicious eyes as he made his way to the array of chairs, by the King, whom was staring at a map that was splayed out upon the table. He ignored Arya's inquiring gaze.

He picked up the chairs, and began folding them up, one by one. At first, the elves were slightly confused at his actions, and did not stop him, but instead chose to watch, to see where he was going with this. And soon, one by one, they were gone, the tension within the camp site growing. He made his way to the table, when out of nowhere; a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. The elf had red hair, the color of deep copper, and his expression was livid. Eragon shook off his grip (he was much stronger than the elf), and was about to pick up the table, when suddenly – the elf prepared himself to leap at him from behind. But before he could lay a finger on him, Eragon turned around and flicked his wrist; using magic, the elf was thrown back against the tree, though not too roughly. At this, the Royal guard surrounded both Arya and the King, their spears and arrows pointed at him. It would be easy, Eragon thought, to break all of these weapons. But he didn't of course –that would be rude.

"What is the meaning of this Eragon?" the King asked, pushing his way through the circle of elves surrounding him. He did not sound angry, nor confused, but rather curious. At the King's lax mannerisms, the elves set down their weapons.

"Right now, Galbatorix and his men are planning the fall of your civilization as well as the deaths of millions. I know this, for I have experienced his insanity first hand, have witnessed myself, the lives of thousands that have ended by his actions. The time of war is creeping upon us. And yet, here we are, wasting our time that could be well spent, on tea and brunch. Why?"

He did not raise his voice, but rather, his tone was dark and exasperated. While some of the elves were shocked at this realization, others were looking at the ground, slightly humiliated at his words no doubt. It was at this, that Eragon realized that it really wasn't their fault. He wasn't being quite fair. This lifestyle was all they knew. To them, it was natural to stop for lunch, to stop for tea. It's expected to have tables and chairs. It was always like this for them, always has been.

"This is our definition of traveling. If you don't like it, then stop complaining and do something about it."

Evandar had made his way over to Eragon, and looked him in the eye. To Eragon this sounded like a challenge, but he was equal to it.

"I am not yet in the position to do anything, Majesty." Eragon said.

Evandar sighed, and smiled condusively.

"By my order, Eragon will now be in charge of this expedition. Listen to him, and follow his instructions."

The elves murmured their confirmations, and looked on towards Eragon. The spotlight was now on him. He stared at each and every one of them straight in the eye, lingering a second longer on a pair of emerald ones.

"Pack up the tents. We are leaving – there are still hours of the day to spend."

They did as they were told, packing the tents up and such. The guards returned their weapons where they belonged, and retrieved the horses. They were packing up the table when Eragon stopped them.

"No. No table – leave it here."

The elves were at a loss for words as all stopped what they were doing to stare at him in pure disbelief. What? No table? Yes, he replied. At this, they watched him mount the blue dragon with Rider Brom, staring after them as they flew off. Thinking he was out of earshot, they began to mutter about the reason as to why they were leaving behind a perfectly good table. I mean, why not, right? It's not like it was that heavy. But at some point, each and every elf replayed the words that Eragon had earlier said. Soon, all complaints ceased.

They left the table behind.

The sun had long been gone by the time Eragon allowed them to camp, much to the elves relief, though they were at a loss, for they had nothing to do once the tents were set up. Eragon had the chairs left behind as well, along with the excess confectionaries, much to their dismay, leaving them only nuts and fruit, along with some vegetables for soup as their supper.

Eragon was shocked at their ignorance.

"I guess I'm going to have to teach them how to camp."

And he did. He assigned a job for each elf, giving their twitching arms something to do. Firewood and logs were found, along with some heavy stones. The logs were positioned in a circle, and the stones were place within. The stones were set to surround the fire which was soon lit. In the corner, a log was being lifted with magic by an elf. He was about to shape the log into a chair of sorts with magic, but Eragon stopped him. Just sit on the log as it is, Eragon told them. They were astounded by the simply design of the camp; for some reason, the idea of not using magic escaped their notice. Soon, potatoes and apples were set by the hot stones as a warm broth was made, and for the first time since Eragon's promotion, the elves had begun to enjoy themselves.

Saphira approved of his teachings, commenting on how annoying it was for the elves to use magic for even the simplest needs. She made sure to project her thoughts, and the tips of many pointed ears turned red.

Conversation flowed like the wine, as they drank to keep themselves warm amidst the chilly night. Even Eragon and Brom were engaged in the conversation. Soon, the topic of the upcoming festival was brought up. Eragon was familiar with it, recalling the time when Eragon and Orik first visited Ellesmera, where they were enchanted by the music of the elves. The elves nodded at his words, laughing. Brom on the other hand, had little to no idea as to what they were talking about.

His name was Odin, and he was one of the only elves within the group with brown hair. Soon, he began to explain what the festival was to Brom, with other elves interjecting every now and then.

"It's more of a ceremony than a festival, though the songs that we sing envelops us with a passion that causes us to forgo all common sense. We sing songs to improve the fertility of the forest. Our voices, woven together with magic, excite the senses of all things around us, including our own, to improve the life within Du Weldenvarden. Most elves find temporary mates within the whole commotion; but again, we are under the influence, so it has little meaning to us. Usually there are activities and events before and after our singing, so many consider it a festival."

Brom nodded his head in understanding, though from the look on his face, Eragon could tell that he still had many questions that needed answering. Eragon smiled at the thought. He looked up, and found Arya staring at him, causing him to shiver ever so slightly by the warm campfire. Something was handed to her, filled with wine. Everyone was taking turns drinking from the wineskin. Her eyes never left his as she took a gulp from the bottle. Her lips glistening red, she handed it to Eragon. He took it, proud of the fact that his hands weren't shaking. She looked away, starting a conversation with the elf beside her. He took a swig. And while he was drinking, he wondered if she was thinking the same thing.

Indirect kiss.

He did not notice the blood that had rushed up to Arya's cheeks.

"Who are you taking Odin?"

The question caught the ears of the surrounding elves, and soon, a new commotion had come about. Eragon assumed from the topic of conversation, that it must be customary to attend the outing with another person. Brom on the other hand, seemed clueless on the matter, and continued to eat another baked apple sprinkled with cinnamon. Eragon voiced his assumption, which was confirmed by Kvothe, the elf with copper hair. King Evandar came out of his tent to join the others. He turned to his daughter after catching the jist of what everyone was talking about.

"Has someone asked you yet, Arya?"

At this, all noise ceased, save the elven maidens who sat beside Arya, giggling in anticipation. She looked around, smiling, and refused to answer the question, causing playful moans of frustration around the camp. And thus, the question was soon forgotten, though still, Eragon kept his eyes on her, until Brom shoved him playfully. He had a mischievous smirk on his lips.

"So who are you taking Eragon?"

From his peripheral vision, Eragon could see Arya snap her head up, along with King Evandar. Again, everyone stopped talking for some odd reason, awaiting his answer. Eragon just smiled and scratched his head, saying that he really didn't know many girls in this time period, so at the moment, he really didn't have a date, much to everyone's surprise and the girls' delight.

"What about those girls who were practically drooling over you earlier?"

Some whistles and cheers were brought on at this remark, as Eragon just laughed the matter off. Many were asking Eragon some questions about the matter and Brom heartily replied for him. But Eragon took no notice. He didn't notice the funny look Saphira's face, or the little waves that the other maidens were giving him. Hell, his foot could have caught on fire, and he probably wouldn't have felt it. His eyes were on one person, and one person only, and she had left the fire's dying light moments ago.

Abruptly, Eragon stood up, and followed Arya into the dark.

Everything was blue.

The trees, the leaves, and his breath – it was all blue underneath the shadow of the leaves. The trees sheltered the forest floor from the moonbeams, rarely allowing strays of light. But he was a Rider, and his vision was enhanced. The wind blew, and the trees whispered. It was autumn; the dead leaves crunched beneath his leather clad feet, alerting Arya of his presence, surely. He couldn't hear her lithe footsteps on the ground, so he followed her scent, which was blown up against his face by the wind.

Mistaking her for a tree at first, it wasn't until her hair was blown back in a wave-like motion did he realize that the form was Arya. She stood there, probably awaiting his arrival. He moved forward, quietly, as if approaching a wild animal; he feared the worst - that she would run off, or be angry that he'd followed her.

A few feet away, he sat down upon a log – Eragon waited.

The cool air felt refreshing on his heated skin, which was now red from his neck up, in such an awkward situation. His palms were getting sweaty, so he opened his hands to remove the moisture. Elbows on his knees, he sighed, and stared at the ground.

Everything was blue.

The crunching of leaves were heard, as Arya made her way toward him, but still, he did not look up. He saw her feet, than her legs. She made her way beside him, and sat down, both of them settling into a comfortable silence. There were crickets chirping, though why they were out in such cold weather, Eragon knew naught.

"I just needed some air."

Eragon nodded and looked straight ahead, refusing to meet her eyes. He didn't want to see her face. His cheeks were red, and he was hoping that she wouldn't see, wouldn't notice. And if she did? Looking at her face would be too much. It was funny really, how he could stand up to an army of Urgals and look at the face of death, yet, he was too embarrassed to look at Arya in the eye. Here they were, alone, in the dark, in the middle of the forest. And he wanted to know why.

"Why?"

The word hung in the air.

The wind began to blow west, her hair dancing against her face, bathing Eragon in her scent. He took a deep breath. He had forgotten how addicting her scent was, how calming.

He had forgotten how much he missed her.

A hot swelling feeling started to ache within his head as his raging emotions were building up, building and building, and his head could only take so much. Eragon didn't want to appear weak, vulnerable, yet, he needed this swelling to stop, or else he might burst. And for a moment, he wasn't in a peaceful forest of blue, sitting here with Arya upon a log. The blue turned to red, and the leaves turned to blood. The chirping of the crickets were screams, dying screams, and the trees grew arms, and they grew legs. The trees weren't trees, but soldiers, and they were everywhere.

She spoke.

"I don't know."

And just her voice, that familiar soothing sound, snapped him out of it, snapped him back to reality. And no longer did he feel a need for tears, because Arya was not dead, Eragon was not on the battlefield. She was right here, beside him. The warmth on his left side proved that, as did the puffs of white coming in erratic breaths beside him. She was here, here, here.

And when she stood up, she waited by his side until he to, was ready to return. And side by side they were, so close, almost touching. A little rock in her path, Arya stumbled, and grabbed Eragon's elbow to stop herself from falling. She assured him that she was fine; she's just a bit dizzy.

She didn't remove her hand.

(Flabbergast - to overcome with surprise and bewilderment; astound.) - I am utterly flabbergasted by the amount of reviews. :O This chapter was shorter than usual; yeah, sorry. And some of you messaged me about not updating frequently (I am now scared of my inbox).

"And I don't care if you take a while with the chapters, because 1. school starts soon, and 2. I don't want you to feel as though there is a deadline, I'm not a publishing company." - Saskia V.M.D.

Ah, I really do love my beta :) That applies for both of us. Speaking of which, this ah-mazing chapter would be a dud without her, so don't hesitate to scream that she's AWSOME. On my profile, the poll will be deleted, and a new one will be made. So now, you guys could vote again for what you want on the next chapter. Again, thanks for reading and reviewing :D And while your at it, say thanks to Saskia V.M.D - you know you love her :)

- D