Disclaimer: I own nothing, and nothing owns me.

Hey! Sorry for the long wait for Chapter 4, but I was celebrating Chinese New Year. (Heh heh. Bet you didn't know I was Chinese, huh? Unless you went to my profile and saw what country I live in... No, it's not China.) To make up for it, I'm writing a good, long chapter! Thanks for reviewing, uh, reviewers!

Murtagh saw the oak door and lifted his fist to knock. Suddenly, he froze as he recognised the clear voice of Lady Nasuada and the merry one of Meraya. The cheerfulness in the latter's one had disappeared, leaving behind raw worry and anxiety.

'The Varden are requesting more gold, Meraya, and I don't know what to do!"cried Nasuada softly.

"Patience, my lady. I know that you will find a solution to your dilemma- You always do,"soothed Meraya.

The Varden! thought Murtagh with shock. She was collaborating with the Varden! Galbatorix did not make them swear not to help those rebels- He only made them swear not to disrupt his plans and to carry them out without fail, he recalled. Suddenly, as he leaned inwards to hear more, he slipped and accidentally knocked the door, making a soft but audible thud.

The voices inside stopped abruptly. Deciding that the only way he could disguise his slip was by acting as if nothing had happened, he struck the door lightly again, making the same dull sound as before, so as to make it seem as if he had only been knocking the door.

"Come in,"came Nasuada's smooth tone, which had regained its command and gave no sign that she had broken down.

"It is I, My Lady,"Murtagh said expressionlessly, as he opened the door and noticed, to his surprise, that Meraya was not present.

She must have left via another door, he finally thought, then dismissed it from his mind.

"You called for me, My Lady?"he queried.

"Yes, Ralmër. It was nothing- I simply wished to know if you felt unwell. You were acting strangely at our meeting, and I was wondering if you were sick,"she replied simply.

"My Lady, I am fine,"he replied."There is no need for you to worry about me. I was just... worried about my family. My little boy is sick with the fever, as you know, so I was distracted,"he assured her, remembering the things the real spy had told him.

Nasuada's façade remained blank, betraying nothing."Very well, you may go. I hope that your son recovers. Do not allow it to distract you again,"she said, dismissing him with a dainty flick of her hand, then paused. A frown covered her face, then she smoothed out her facial features again."Oh... and, Ralmër, return here, uh, tonight. I want to ask you something,"she added.

Murtagh did not miss how she accentuated his name, and he wondered at it.

That night, he returned to the office, unaware of what was about to happen. First, he opened the door, and had a brief glimpse of Nasuada staring at him with wide eyes, then something hit him in his back, and he blacked out. His last thought was, Why didn't my wards prevent the attack from hitting me?

Meraya muttered a few words in the strange, twisting Ancient Language that all magicians used to cast spells, and the unconscious figure of her co-advisor began shimmering. The moustache melted away- The figure elongated, and the hair darkened, and then the figure fell to the floor. It was Murtagh Morzansson, the Red Rider!

She shuddered, then clutched at a nearby chair to steady herself. Nasuada was rendered speechless! She let her almond eyes travel over the man's dark hair, his soft, pale skin, and the already slightly angled features he bore. Finally, she tore her eyes away from him and picked up a jug of water, with the drug to dull his power mixed within it. She poured it into Murtagh's mouth, since Meraya seemed too tired to do so. She then massaged his throat to get him to swallow it, then called in two of her most trusted guards to carry him into the dungeon.

"One thing I don't understand..."Nasuada said slowly."Why didn't his wards deflect the attack? I only just thought of it, but..."

Meraya laughed, a harsh sound emanating from her pretty throat."It was a chance I had to take, Lady. I had hoped that there would be a flaw in his wards that would enable the spell to pass. Anyway, I doubted that he would have cast a ward to prevent a spell that would knock him unconscious."

"Oh."

That night, as Nasuada lay in her bed, she pondered the events of the day, then, slowly but surely, sank into a fitful sleep.

She was in her father's garden."Papa, where are we going?"asked the seven-year-old Nasuada. Her father smiled, displaying his beautiful white teeth, and replied,"We are going to Morzan's second castle to meet Galbatorix and Morzan. I have... certain matters to discuss with them."

"Oh, Papa, Papa, will there be anyone for me to play with?"she questioned, her solemn brown eyes widening.

"I doubt it."

Nasuada yawned. Her father was speaking with those whom she thought were his friends, of what she knew not. Slipping off the velvety chair, she snuck out of the stifling room. She wandered in and out of the corridors, keeping track of how she could rejoin Ajihad by tracing her fingernail across the wall, making a faint but still visible line. Suddenly, a click from the other side of a large door startled her, and she drew back.

Why, it was only a boy no older than she! He had a shock of black hair that grew long and messy, but his eyes- His eyes made her shiver. They were as blue as the sea, and yet- They were just as gray as an autumn storm.

"Who are you?"he asked, tilting his head.

She tossed back hers, and replied as imperiously as she could,"I am Nasuada, daughter of Ajihad."

He laughed, a brittle, tense sound."And I am-"

"Nasuada!"came her father's anxious voice.

Suddenly, a man Ajihad had called Morzan pushed the frightened-looking boy back into the room and tapped the door. Nasuada heard a click.

"Your daughter is too nosy for her own good!"snarled Morzan, his gaze on her. Nasuada took a step back, afraid.

"Now, now, Morzan, I'm sure she didn't mean to peek,"Galbatorix, the black king, said in an amused tone.

"That... That was the maid's child. I keep him locked up to punish her for disobeying my orders,"snapped Morzan, at Ajihad.

"Of course,"Nasuada's father said courteously.

Another memory. Another day.

"My Lord! We found this man trying to sneak into Feinster!"said Isvel, one of Ajihad's guards, shaking a seventeen-year-old gruffly. The boy had long black hair, and bluish-gray eyes.

Ajihad frowned."Alright, Isvel. Now, young man, what is your na-"

"Father! I have-"the seventeen-year-old Nasuada burst in on the group, then stopped abruptly, eyes riveted on the boy's face.

"You!"she exclaimed.

His eyes widened."I saw you before!"

Then a contingent of her father's guards swept her away, and she saw no more.

Ajihad stood in front of her, black eyes somber and sad."Nasuada, my child,"he said softly.

She remembered this well. It was the last conversation she had had with her father, before he went out with his army to fight the Urgals. Yes, she remembered her tears, as she beheld her father, lying in a circle of dead Urgals, with a great slash across his gleaming breastplate. She remembered seizing her sword and slaying the Urgals who bore down on her father, wishing to destroy his body, resplendent even in death.

But something was different. She could feel it in the air.

Then-

"Nasuada. Listen to me. Follow your heart,"whispered he urgently.

Follow your heart.

Darkness.

Darkness!

She cried out for her father, but he had faded.

Gone.

If I had to describe my writing in one word, it would be "dark". Or maybe "wistful". See, that's the thing- I can't write anything even remotely funny. So please don't expect humour from me. :D

Anyway, I'm digressing. Sorry. Read and Review! And tell me what word you would use to describe my writing! Thank you!