The Captain said something angry, and two guards stepped forward and took Eragon's arms. Four took Arya. She hardly noticed. She was yelling at Eragon, pleading with him to wake up, to be okay. The guards that had him were hauling him down the stone hall behind her, and she kept turning her head, struggling, trying to see him past the soldiers that held her. His heels were dragging along the ground, chest to the ceiling, his head lolling back. Dark blood dripped from his wounds onto the ground, leaving a smeared trail behind him. All of a sudden, the guards holding her gave her a shove through the open door of the cell. She heard the thud of another body hitting the floor beside her, and then the slam of the door.
She let out a slight groan as she pushed herself off of the floor, but then all of her pain was forgotten as she looked at the prone form of Eragon. He lay on his front, and she desperately turned him over, pressing her ear to his blood-covered chest. He had a heartbeat. She felt relief flood through her. He was alive. But then she looked at the wound in his shoulder. She could loose that heartbeat any minute. She glanced over him, quickly assessing the damage.
If she had not seen the whole process she would have barely recognized him. His face was burned and bruised, his eyes swollen from tears. His body was not any better. He was covered with bruises of varying colors, as well as a hundred cuts and gashes. His back was more laceration than skin, and his shoulder…
His shoulder was bad.
It appeared to be a stab wound from a sword or spear from behind, going all the way through. It was high enough that it hadn't hit his heart, thank goodness, otherwise he wouldn't be breathing now. But it was still bad, bleeding terribly. He already looked pale, and it wasn't going to get any better. Gently but hurriedly she lifted him up, cursing the soldiers and the Captain for what they had done to him. Laying him out on the stone bed she picked up the strips of cloth that had been left over from when she had tried to bandage him before. Taking one of them she pressed it down on his shoulder. It was instantly soaked in blood, but she kept the pressure on it, and within a minute or so the bleeding slowed. Grabbing more strips she wrapped the wound tightly. Then she sat back. There was nothing left to do, but wait.
A few hours later, by her best guess, she was still sitting there. Her head was back against the wall, and it looked as though she was resting, but in truth her eyes never left the unconscious form beside her. Now, as she watched, he was stirring, his eyes moving beneath their lids. She sat up and watched. After a few minutes, she was astonished to see a lone tear fall from the corner of Eragon's eye. It rolled down his temple and over his ear. She reached out and gently wiped it away. Eragon's eyes flew open in surprise, and he just stared. Then in a whisper that was hardly more that a breath, he asked
"Arya?"
She only nodded. He reached up, hesitantly, touching her face, as if not believing she was actually real.
"You're alive," Again, barely audible.
Then he laughed out loud.
"You're alive!"
He tried to sit up and hug her.
Big mistake.
Instantly what color there was drained from his face, and he stopped laughing. The hard calm returned, and he fell back on the stone. His eyes closed, and he was breathing heavily. Though his face was relaxed, his hands were balled into fists, clenching so hard that his fingernails were making cuts in his palm. Arya reached out and brushed his hair out of his face, letting him know she was there, trying to sooth him a little. What else could she do? She couldn't heal him, thanks to the stupid drug. She could only watch as he dealt with the pain. His breathing turned more desperate as racking coughs began to take over. She looked on, at a loss for what to do. It was an awful feeling, one that she was not used to. Soon, he was coughing violently, the spasms shaking his entire body, undoubtedly causing more pain. It ended with him vomiting what little there was in his stomach onto the floor beside the bed. Finally, the cough died down. He lay there, his breathing calming. Arya took a scrap of leftover blanket material and gently wiped his mouth clean. He opened his eyes, and with a weak smile, immediately returned to the previous conversation as if nothing had happened.
"I'm sorry. I was so happy to see you alive… I wasn't thinking… Arya, what about Saphira?"
"She was never here, Eragon, and they never tried to kill me. It was an illusion."
He understood.
"The magician…"
She nodded. Then, hesitantly, dreading the answer, she asked him,
"Why are you glad I'm alive? Why are you acting like this?"
He stared at her, confused, and then realization filled his face.
"Oh…"
She closed her eyes, surprised and angry with herself that she was fighting back tears.
"Arya, I didn't mean it."
She looked up, surprised. Didn't mean what? Didn't mean that he hated her, or that he was glad she was alive? He spoke again, seeming to have trouble finding the words.
"Arya, when they were torturing you, I was… It… It was too much. I couldn't watch anymore. I was breaking. I had to do something. I couldn't just sit there…"
He looked at her, as though begging her to understand. She did, having felt the same way watching him. She felt a slight hope rising in her, but pushed it back down. He hadn't said anything, yet.
"I realized that if their plan didn't work, if your torture didn't bother me, I had a chance of getting them to switch our places. I made up a story that was plausible, because for it to work I needed you to believe it, too. Then I put it into action. It worked as well as could be hoped for. They believed me, and switched us. I feel horrible for the way I treated you in the cell, but I had to, to keep you safe. I knew if you didn't believe me, you would expect some sign that I was deceiving them once we were in the cell, but I needed you to believe me for my plan to work. Also, if they tried to scry us and I was acting a friend to you again, they would have realized that they had been tricked, and they would have switched you back, and that would have been the end of it. Now, I think that even if they find out, they are too frustrated with me to switch us back. But then, I couldn't risk it. Please… forgive me…"
She stared. He hadn't meant it. He had lied to save her, to take her place. But his words still echoed in her head.
"She left me hurt and crying to the darkness too many times..."
He was not the one to apologize. She had to tell him. Now. She spoke, her voice breaking.
"Eragon… I have been sitting here for the past few hours, thinking. And I came to a strong conclusion. Back in that room… in the hall… I thought they had killed you. And I was going over, again and again, all the things I'd meant to tell you. Everything that I hadn't said, that I told myself I'd say later. What it made me realize was that I don't know if I'll have that chance in the future, if I will be able to tell you later. So I have to tell you now… Eragon…"
She felt her throat tighten as she continued to fight back the tears. Finally, she managed to whisper,
"I love you."
That was the end of fighting the tears. It was no use. They started to fall down her cheeks, trailing along her neck only to be soaked up by the collar of her shirt. She didn't dare look at him, afraid to see his reaction. Instead, she put head in her hands in a lame attempt to hide the fact that she was crying like a human girl.
"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you, so sorry I hurt you. I didn't mean to hurt you. I meant to protect… I don't know. It is only that you had- have- Alagaësia riding on your shoulders. I thought that a relationship might distract you, which would be disastrous. I- I told myself that you were human, and too young. I told myself that if I were captured, I could be used against you…
" I told myself I didn't love you."
She swallowed hard, holding back a sob, trying to think of what to say. Part of her was horrified with herself for crying like this, but the rest of her was sending her signals of how much this hurt, going over this, telling him everything. Admitting to herself how much she had really hurt her friend, how much she had messed up. She took a deep breath, and continued.
"None of those arguments now stand. You are almost elven now, and this war has aged you far beyond your years. And, though quite obviously no relationship exists between us, the Empire still tried to use me against you. And, finally, I do love you. I lied to myself before, but I can't any longer. I thought I lost you, twice. Just now, and then before, when… when you said…"
She trailed off, unwilling to show him how much his words of before had hurt her. She guessed that he knew anyway.
"Arya…"
She closed her eyes. He had said her name the way he had said it before, when he was watching the illusion. The way he used to say it, before they had gotten captured, the way it contained a thousand things… Joy, laughter, sometimes hints of his forbidden love if he was careless… As if he was glad to see her, as if he wished he could say her name more often… Faolin had always said it like that… As if he cared about her. She looked up.
He was staring at her, his face full of the love he had spoken of so many times, and regret for when he had had to deny it.
"Arya, I did not mean what I said. I was lying. I wanted to protect you, to keep you safe. I couldn't just stand there and watch them hurt you. It was too much. Because, Arya, despite everything, despite anything… I still love you."
She stared at him for a moment, and then smiled. Tears still ran down her face, and she couldn't really describe how she felt. Eragon loved her, and she had finally told him the truth. But he was still injured, and they were still prisoners.
Eragon slowly lifted his good arm and brushed her hair out of her face and the tears off her cheeks. He hid it well, but she could see how much the effort cost him. He smiled softly.
"I'm so glad you're all right. I'd thought I'd lost you."
She remembered that she had never asked him what had happened, what she had not seen of the illusion.
She asked, and he closed his eyes, his smile disappearing.
"It was horrible… I never guessed it wasn't real. It felt real. I was watching the magician. He said something in the Ancient Language, but I couldn't hear him. Then he stepped away. It didn't appear that he had done anything, which confused me, but I didn't really pay it that much attention. The guards pulled me up, and, all of a sudden, they brought in Saphira through those big wooden doors, and… and they brought you up next to her… The Captain…"
He seemed to be struggling, trying to find words, reliving those minutes in his mind, experiencing the pain, the fear.
"You don't have to tell me, it's all right."
He shook his head.
"No, you should know what we're up against. He said that I had to tell them everything, or they… they would kill you. Kill you both. Saphira first. I didn't want to refuse. I wanted to tell him, I begged you to let me… You said the Varden depended on me. I couldn't talk to Saphira because of the drug, but I knew… I said no. And they… they… killed her.
"It- It was awful. I felt so… empty. Before, it felt like I was one light in a thousand, walking along a path. Saphira added to my light, and lit my path. I could see a little ways ahead of me, and, thanks to her, my light was strong enough to reach others, to see around me. When she was farther away, when our minds couldn't touch, she was still their, though the light was dimmer, she was there. But when she... died… It was dark. There were still other lights around, but they were out of reach. The path ahead was dark; I could see nothing. I didn't know where to go, what to do… I was alone in the darkness, and even my own light was going dim…
"Then the Captain spoke again, and told me to tell him now, or I would watch you die. Again, I asked you to just let me tell him… They had gotten to me, Arya, if you hadn't spoken to me then… I don't know what I would have done. But you did. You reminded me how much depended on my silence. And I- I said-" He trailed off.
"No." She finished for him.
He nodded, his eyes still closed, and a tear escaped from the corner of his eye. When he spoke again she could barely hear him.
"The Captain was angry. He took his dagger and killed you himself. I started struggling with the soldiers that held me. I was almost free, when I felt pain in my shoulder. I looked over and saw the tip of a spear protruding from my chest, and I blacked out. When I woke up, I thought you were dead…
"What I don't understand, however, is the fact that you were able to talk me out of telling them. If the magician controlled the illusion, why wasn't his "you" begging me not to let them kill you, or at the very least remaining silent?"
Arya thought for a moment, then said,
"When I looked at the magician, he seemed to be losing energy fast. It must have been a difficult spell. I think that in the beginning, he had to fight your imagination to keep you from realizing discrepancies that normally would have alerted or protected you. But as he got weaker, your idea of me took over his false image, and your imagination projected what it thought I would be most likely to say onto his image of me. That enabled his image of me to help you."
Eragon nodded, and with a sigh, opened his eyes. There was an extended silence. She began considering their situation. She had to find a way to switch their places again, or at least escape. She couldn't just sit there any longer watching as they hurt him. She had to get them out, somehow. Eragon needed medical attention, soon. She couldn't bear to lose him, but much longer in here… A word from Eragon startled her out of her reverie.
"Arya, we need to talk about something."
She looked up, and saw that his eyes were full of some great sadness, but also conviction. Instantly she was wary.
"First of all, if you get a chance to escape, even if it's for only you, I want you to take it."
"What?! No! Absolutely not! Are you-"
"Arya, please listen."
She stared at him, seething, but remained silent.
"Arya, we both know that I probably won't make it out of here-"
"What the blazes are you talking about, Eragon?! You had darn well better not-"
"Arya, again, please hear me out."
She forced herself to bite back her rampage.
"As I was saying. You cannot deny it, Arya. I am dying. I will not last long in this condition, and you know as well as I do that I am beyond their magician's ability to heal. My guess is that Galbatorix has found a way to force a dragon to remain alive after its rider falls. I am no longer needed."
Her anger was wearing away as the unavoidable truth of his statement hit her head on. She unwillingly thought back to a few minutes before, when she had been dancing around that very truth as she tried to think through how to escape. What had she done to deserve such a traitor mind, always reminding her of things when she needed them least? She felt something wet on her cheek. A tear, just when she'd thought she had cried herself out.
"Arya, in the event that you escape, and I, for whatever reason, be it death or something else, do not, I want you to do something for me."
She swallowed hard, knowing she had lost the argument. Still, she had to try.
"Eragon, you're going to be fine, just wait. They'll find us, just please don't give up on me… Please…"
He continued to look at her, waiting. His eyes bored right into hers, and she knew that what he said was true. In all likelihood, he would not make it out of this place alive.
"What do you want me to do?"
He gave a small, sad smile. She felt another tear fall down her face.
"I want you to bring messages to people. Will you?"
"I- I will. What are the messages?"
"To Roran, tell him that he was always my brother, and that I wish him luck with Katrina and their child.
"To Nasuada, tell her that it was a pleasure serving her, and that I believe, when this is all over, that either Roran or herself would make a good ruler for Alagaësia.
"To Orik, long may he reign, tell him that he too was my brother, and that I was honored to be adopted into Dûrgrimst Ingeitum.
"To Angela, I have done my best to avoid roast cabbage.
"To- to Saphira…"
It was his turn to swallow hard, closing his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was cracked and strained.
"What can I say to my dragon? My beautiful blue dragon… Only that I love her, and to stay alive for the Varden. And, to take you as her rider into battle, should the need arise."
She opened her mouth to speak, but he raised his hand slightly, stopping her.
"There is no one else I would trust with her, Arya. Do this for me, for the Varden.
"And that leads us, finally, to you, Arya. When I first met you, you were closed, and I had to work long and hard to learn anything about you. If I am not mistaken, that was due to Faolin's death?"
She nodded.
"You have said that you love me, Arya. Whether you love me as you loved Faolin, or more, or a thousand times less, I know not. But I can only ask that, should I die, you not be so closed again. Find someone to love you, someone to love, someone who makes you happy. I would much rather you are happy with someone else than alone and guarded as you were before. And, though I did not know him, from what you have told me, I believe Faolin would have said the same thing if he had had the chance."
"How can you say that? I loved Faolin, and I lost him. Now, I have fallen in love with you. It's so different, and yet… How can you ask me to love again? I have lost my father, my lover, and, in a strange sense, I have lost my mother, or at least my relationship with her. And now I may lose you as well? You are the most important person in the world to me. How can you ask that of me?!"
He looked at her with those blue eyes, and said quietly,
"Because I love you, and I want what is best for you. You cannot go through life as you once did, shut away, enjoying nothing. I love you more than life itself, Arya. You know that. Do this for me. We have but one life to live, would you waste yours so quickly?"
Reaching out, he took her hand. She couldn't believe that she might lose this. Couldn't believe that in a short while she might again have to watch the man she loved die. Everything in her screamed at her to do something, but she could only ask, What? What can I do? She had no answer for herself.
He smiled weakly, seeming to understand what was going on in her mind, the chaos there. But then he frowned as they heard footsteps in the hall.
"Get over to the other side of the room!" He hissed, his tone urgent.
She complied, quickly moving to the other side of the room. She sat down on the stone slab, and looked up at Eragon. To her shock, he was sitting up, and as she watched, he rose to his feet.
"What are you doing?!"
But she fell silent at the look he gave her. It was the gaze of someone far older, far wiser, than the Eragon she had once known. He knew what he was doing. The door opened, and Eragon spoke.
"Ah, gentlemen, I was beginning to wonder if you would ever come. How good to see you."
The soldiers stared at him for a moment. He was a strange sight. He stood there straight and proud, as if the injuries across his body weren't there at all. His face was the only giveaway, it was the hard calm he had maintain throughout everything, especially when he felt the most pain. The lead soldier recovered first, and gave a mocking grin.
"Rider, good, you're awake. We were beginning to get bored, but now we can get back to our game."
"Hmmm… Yes, about that. I would like you to take a message to your captain. Tell him that as much as I appreciate his efforts towards entertainment, they are, shall we say, disappointing?
" I would like a little bit more of a challenge, if possible. I don't believe he is really putting out his best efforts. Please let him know."
During Eragon's speech the soldier's face had been getting redder and redder. When Eragon stopped talking, he looked about to burst with indignation and rage.
"How dare- why you-"
He grit his teeth in frustration. Eragon kept the calm façade, though she could see him growing paler by the second.
"Yes?"
"Oh, he will hear about this, Rider, and I am sure I can guarantee you that he will be most unhappy to hear of your… discomfort."
The soldiers own words appeared to calm him, as if the thought of more brutal hours of torture for Eragon soothed his anger. It probably did. He and his companions stepped back out of the cell, and slammed the door. Eragon swayed, and she barely caught him. Lowering him gently to the floor, she instantly began her attack.
"ERAGON SHADESLAYER! That was the stupidest thing I have ever seen anyone do! What on earth were you thinking? Do you want your torture to get ten times worse?"
His breathing was ragged again. She reached out and touched his forehead. It was hot, burning against her fingers. Quickly she put a hand on his good shoulder, and then his arm, checking. She swore.
"You're burning up. Barzûl! Why on earth did you go and do that, you foolish…"
She trailed off, unable to find the correct words to express her anger, and her deep fear.
"Aye, foolish, perhaps. But they won't bother you now. They won't switch us. You're safe. You don't think I knew you would try to get them to switch us back? That would not have been in anyone's best interests. I-"
He was forced to stop as his ragged breaths turned again to horrible coughs. They racked his whole body, and blood coated his lips. Those blasted tears were falling down her cheeks again, as she watched the pained contortions of his body, contrasting with his clam face. When the coughs finally ceased, he closed his eyes, seeming to drift between alert and unconscious.
"Eragon. Eragon! Hey, wake up! Eragon? Do you hear me?"
He opened his eyes fully, suddenly very alert, and gave her a calculating glance. She knew he saw everything. Her anger, determination, tears, and fear.
"Arya, I want you to promise to me that no matter what happens out there, you will not tell them anything for my sake, you understand? Not a thing."
She winced as he repeated her own words back at her. It had been so much easier for her to say them than for her to hear them from him. She would rather have faced years of physical torture that to go through watching this again. She hesitated.
"Arya…"
"Eragon, I- I can't…"
"You are quite right. You cannot tell them anything at all. But I want your word. Please, Arya. It will make things easier for you if you have a standard."
She glared at him through tear-blurred eyes for twisting her words around, then gave a small sigh, and nodded.
"My word."
He seemed content with that. Pressing her hand gently, he spoke again.
"I love you, Arya, I-"
He was interrupted by the tramp of boots and the squeal of wood on stone as the door opened. The same soldier as before walked in, a confident grin on his face.
"Well, Rider, here is you challenge."
He pulled back his boot to slam into Eragon's side, but Arya grabbed his ankle, flipping him onto the ground. The man's companions roared in fury and grabbed her arms, hauling her back. The soldier stood again, and rammed his fist into the side of her head. She saw stars.
"I'll take no disrespect, wench."
He then turned again to his primary target. Her senses cleared enough for her to begin to struggle with the hands that held her, but it was no use. The lead soldier kicked and punched with a vengeance. Finally, he pulled away. Eragon lay on the floor, eyes half open, staring at the man. A long trail of blood flowed from the corner of his mouth down his chin, and his breathing was short and uneven. More blood stained his makeshift bandages, were the beating had reopened wounds. Still his face was calm, though he appeared to be only semi-conscious. The soldier nodded in satisfaction, and motioned to two other guards to grab Eragon's arms. Then they, and the guards holding her, followed their leader out the door and down the stone hall in the direction of the torture chamber.
