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At first, the laughter just mixed in with that from the soldiers, but as they stopped, Arya could hear it more clearly. Though it took few seconds for her to process what she was hearing, Arya's pain-swamped mind recognized it. She looked up, and saw that she was correct. Eragon, his wrists pulled back to the wall by iron chains, was laughing hysterically. The soldiers around her had stopped, staring with confused looks to their commander, awaiting orders. The commander was looking, with a similar expression, at Eragon, who appeared to be attempting to calm his laughter. She watched Eragon, unbelieving, stunned. Finally the commander spoke.

"We have done something to amuse you, Rider?"

Eragon finally appeared to get control of himself, and the laughter stopped.

"I was merely enjoying your exercises, Captain. I do believe that was your desire?"

The Captain, as Arya now realized he was, looked even more puzzled.

"But surely… News of the love of the Rider and Elf has reached us from our operatives across Alagaesia! We could not have been so mistaken as to… surely…"

Arya grimaced, she knew that there were rumors about a supposed relationship between her and Eragon, but for them to be so vivid that the Empire's spies would report them as fact was far beyond anything she would have guessed, or tolerated. She was surprised to see that Eragon looked as though he was thinking the same thing, though his smile remained.

"Your operatives are foolish to believe the gossip of old women and beer-tongued men. There was once a time when I felt such a love for the Elf, as you call her, but she would not have me. She left me hurt and crying to the darkness too many times, and I grew to hate her."

He turned to her, and their eyes met. She felt the hurt of his words beginning.

"Over the months my hate has grown, and many times I longed to do to her just what you are doing now, or worse, though she did not know it. And so, Captain, you will forgive me for enjoying this, for seeing her take a little of my pain. It has been long in coming."

The Captain's expression changed from confused back to his smooth, cool expression, but Arya didn't notice. She was too busy staring as Eragon. He still met her gaze, unflinching, and his eyes were filled with the hatred he had spoken of, nothing else. No compassion or regret, just cold, unwavering hatred. It confirmed what he had just said more than anything else. She felt memories welling up unbidden in her mind, and though she tried to force them back, they overwhelmed her.

Eragon- different, more human-looking than he was now- standing in the door of her cell at Gil'ead, his face curious, concerned.

Eragon standing in the door way of her room, or really, leaning, too weak to fully support himself: the injury to his back, though healed as best as anyone could, still sapping his strength. As drained as he was, he was still holding out the flowers to her, looking slightly hopeful. She took them cautiously, but continued watching him. He seemed content that she had taken his gift, and smiled slightly.

Eragon, changed, healed, again holding greenery, this time a single flower, a lily, he was passing it to her, cheering her up, doing a good job too, she was content, happy.

His arms were around her now, but she wasn't happy, she was crying, mourning the two mentors- and friends- who were now dead. He was comforting her, protecting her from the world, just for a second, keeping her close…

But then the memories changed.

She was staring at herself, but not herself. She was seeing herself as Eragon saw her. He was standing a few feet away, looking stunned. The fairth felt like it was burning her hands, she felt pure fear swirl through her, and on impulse she raised the slate above her head, smashing it on the grass.

The recollection changed.

Eragon was staring at her, his face twisted.

How can you be so cruel?

Hear me well, Eragon. This cannot, nor ever shall be. And until you master yourself, our friendship must cease to exist, for your emotions do nothing but distract us from our duty. Goodbye, Eragon Shadeslayer. [Eldest, pg 474]

She walked past him into the trees, but didn't leave. When she knew she was out of his sight, she turned around and watched. He was sitting down on an old log, his shoulders shaking, head in his hands. A few seconds later Saphira landed and pulled him close, blocking Arya's view. But she had known then as she knew now: he had been crying.

The scene changed again

Now she was the one crying, or rather trying not to cry. The smell of smoke was strong in the air. Eragon was sitting across from her, listening to what he had not yet known of her past. She was watching his face. She had seen something, only for a split second, but it had been there. She had mentioned Faolin, how they had been friends for so long, and that's when she's seen it. Something had flitted across his face, just appearing before he visibly forced it back. Jealousy, longing. He had said nothing though. Because she had asked him not to. At the Burning Plains.

Her mind automatically brought her there, though she was begging it to stop. She didn't want to see any more, no other memories of the pain she had caused her friend.

And you won't do it again?

It wouldn't get me anywhere if I did, now would it? No matter. I don't want to trouble you… [Eldest, pg 592]

She regain control of her mind and looked back up at what was happening. It had only been a second or two, and the Captain still appeared to be considering Eragon. Eragon was still looking at her, a satisfied look on his face, as though he knew what she had been thinking.

"I suppose, then, Rider, that I will have to change my plans. Donagger? Tallien? If you would?"

The two soldiers he had addressed stepped forward and, taking Arya by the arms, they began to force her toward where Eragon stood, chained to the wall. She struggled, but when two additional soldiers stepped up and also grabbed her arms she had no choice but to walk with them. Four soldiers were standing by Eragon as well. As Arya and the guards around her approached, those standing by Eragon seized his arms, and one reached up to unlock the iron cuffs around his wrists. She realized that they were being switched. They began to move Eragon towards the post where Arya had been chained when they had first arrived. He, too, was struggling, growling angrily as they shoved him across the room. Meanwhile, Arya's guards were clamping her wrists into the now empty manacles. Eragon's guards were doing the same, though with the shackles hanging from the top of the post instead. He was still struggling with them, slamming his wrists against the chain. She watched apprehensively as the Captain smirked and spoke.

"One may not love the other, but there is truth to every tale. She may yet love you. If she does not, there is no loss, for you may speak to save yourself. Begin."

At his words, a soldier stepped forward and raised the whip.