*I do not own the Inheritance Cycle…Also, flamingos.*

Unlikely Predicament

Eragon walked away from Saphira, heading for Arya's tent. Just as he was about to knock on the wooden post, the flap opened up to reveal Arya deep in thought. She was focusing on the ground so she did not see Eragon, and bumped into him, causing both of them to fall in a tangle of limbs.

The positions they ended up in were quite questionable, and would be laughed upon in the future because of the ridiculousness of the whole situation. Arya was now positioned on top of Eragon, her legs straddling him while her head was directly above Eragon's whilst his hot breath blew into her face. Eragon had wrapped his arms around her waist, and squeezed Arya subconsciously to him, making her squeak slightly.

Arya eyes widened somewhat, just now realizing exactly what arrangement they were in.

Now if Eragon could just lean his head up, and tilt slightly to the side, he would be able to –

Arya coughed nervously, embarrassed that she hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings. "Perhaps we should…untangle ourselves before anyone sees us and starts spreading rumors, shall we?"

Bârzul, I was so close, too. Eragon thought in bitterness. No, bad Eragon! I told Arya I would not pursue her anymore, and here I am thinking of kissing her for Gûntera's sake!

Slowly, Eragon unwrapped his arms from Arya's waist, heat rushing to his cheeks as he realized what he had just done. He quickly said, "I apologize Arya Svit-kona, I do not know what overcame me. I will make sure that this never happens again. Forgive me for my clumsiness." By now Arya was standing, wordlessly offering a hand to Eragon, who took in firmly with one of his, relishing the soft touch. She pulled him up easily, and let go quickly, slightly saddened at the loss of warmth.

"Eragon, you must stop your incessant babbling, it is I who is at fault. I was not paying attention to my surroundings and caused this whole mishap." She smiled slightly, "Now, what was it that you needed of me?"

He was shocked to say the least. Eragon had at least suspected reprimand of some sort, but instead found that Arya had waved it off as if it were nothing more than a mere fly.

He stood with his mouth agape, not believing a single word that came out of her mouth. Eragon did a double-take just to make sure that this was the legitimate Arya.

Eragon narrowed his eyes warily, keeping them on her while he reached for his sword if the need arises. "Who are you, and what have you done with Arya?"

Arya creased her eyebrows in confusion and looked at him as if he had gone crazy. "What in all of Alagaësia are you talking about, Eragon?" She hesitated for a moment before saying, "Are you inebriated, Shadeslayer?" She, too, narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"Why would you possible think that, Arya Svit-kona?"

She countered with a question of her own. "Why would you think I am not the real Arya?"

"Because…The real Arya has yet to recover from her coma, and yet, you look as healthy as can be, imposter!" Eragon quickly pulled out his sword, pointing it at the false Arya's neck with practiced ease.

In a deadly voice, Eragon asked, "I will ask you this once more – who are you…and what have you done with the real Arya?"

Fake Arya turned up her nose, "Humph, and why would I tell you that, scum?"

"Because…If you do not, I could kill you in an instant." Eragon pricked her neck to make sure the point got across. (No pun intended.) Blood spurted from the newly acquired wound, dribbling down the fake Arya's neck.

Fake Arya's eyes slowly started to fade from a forest green to an icy blue. "Touchy, are we, Shadeslayer?" She said lightly.

Eragon growled. "What do you think you're doing here, Trianna?"

"Just a minute ago you were enjoying yourself, why not with me instead of that elf mongrel?" Trianna flipped her hair, and put a hand on her hip.

Eragon's eyes, too, started changing color. He walked up to Trianna, sheathing his sword, his angry brown eyes flecked with a deep rich blue. Gently, almost as if he cared, Eragon wrapped his arms around Trianna's waist, softly replying, "You are too right, Trianna. Why spend all my love on her when she just rejects it?" In turn, Trianna twined her arms around Eragon, enjoying the feeling of his warmth.

"I'm glad you see it my way." She whispered into his ear. He stroked her hair almost lovingly, silently slipping out a dagger from a hidden sheath in his sleeve. Still stroking her hair, he put the blade to Trianna's neck. She felt the cold bite of metal on her neck, and gasped.

Eragon whispered harshly. "What do you think you are doing, witch? What goal are you trying to achieve in attempting to seduce me, because I see through every little plan of yours. I also know for a fact that you are the head of the Black Hand, and that you're also spying for that spiteful king, Galbatorix." Eragon didn't allow Trianna a chance to speak. "I should just kill you right now and save you the trouble of getting to the castle dead."

Trianna chuckled darkly. "I see you're not fooled in the least bit." She smiled wickedly. "Although…" She trailed her fingers up his arm. "I could just do this…" She kept trailing her fingers until she reached Eragon's shoulder. She reached for something behind his back, and pulled. "Instead." She finished, holding out another hidden dagger that glinted in the sunlight and plunged it into her heart.

Trianna instantly lost strength, buckling to her hands and knees, hacking blood out viciously. She looked up for a moment, gasping, and smiled. "You…will not see…" She attempted to suck in air, but coughed up blood instead. It trickled down her chin. "The last of Galbatorix…fool…"

*Keep on reading*