The Inheritance Cycle belongs to Christopher Paolini, not me.

The Varden had been camped close to Dras-Leona for several days, preparing for their attack on the city. They were planning to commence the battle early the next day, which meant that Eragon had been kept busy from dawn until dusk. Night had fallen by the time he arrived back at his tent. He brushed aside the flap, entered his tent, and lit a candle. In the dim lighting, he discovered a note on his bed.

Eragon,

I know you have had a long day, but I was hoping you could meet me where we talked last night. Your elven guard has already agreed to allow us our privacy.

-Arya

Eragon was puzzled, and walked back out of his tent over to where Saphira lay. She had heard what the note said as he read it, but did not offer her opinion when she felt his confusion. This he found peculiar. "Saphira, what is it?" he asked. It wasn't often that his dragon didn't speak her mind.

Little one, I cannot tell you. You will go to her, but I cannot tell you what to say. Keep in mind that in taming her, you have also broken her. This was necessary, but now you must help her to rebuild herself. Remember her vulnerability and do not betray her trust, Saphira advised. After she finished speaking, she withdrew most of her consciousness from Eragon's mind.

Eragon was taken aback, and asked, "Saphira, what's going on?"

Saphira, of course, did not answer him. It bothered her to know she was causing him distress, but she knew she didn't have a choice. Eragon kicked the ground and dust flew up. He turned, and stomped away in the direction of the circle of stumps at the top of the hill.

As he drew near, he saw Arya standing rigidly on the hill, facing away from camp. Eragon's anger dissipated when he noticed her anxiety. He strolled over to her side, placed his hand on the small of her back, and spoke softly, "Hi."

Arya didn't react to his touch, but she did turn when he spoke to her, and offered him a hesitant smile. "Hi," she responded and stepped away from him. His hand dropped to his side when she broke the contact between them. She had to tell him the truth, but she couldn't do it facing him. "I lied to you," Arya said emotionlessly.

Once again, Eragon was confused. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I did not tell you the whole truth about what transpired in Gil'ead. I suppose it was a lie of omission, but it was a lie, nonetheless," she responded quietly.

Eragon frowned. He didn't know what to make of this. "I don't understand," he responded, still confused.

Still facing away from him, Arya continued speaking, "After we sparred in Farthen Dur, I told you about the torture I endured. I told you that Durza ordered his men to use me as they desired. They were not able to get near me because I nudged away their minds. This much was true."

Eragon's stomach clenched as he began to have an inkling of what Arya needed to tell him. "Arya, are you sure—?" was all he managed before she cut him off.

She spun around to face him and met his eyes. "Eragon, I have nothing but doubt about this discussion, but I have promised Saphira that I would tell you the whole truth. Please do not make this more difficult for me," Arya said, her voice acquiring a bit of an edge.

Eragon nodded tersely.

Turning her back on him once again, she looked to the night sky and continued in a flat voice, "As I said, I was able to keep the men from touching me, but of course Durza found out. He was furious and murdered several of them in front of me."

She paused and took a deep breath before saying, "He told me that I might have been able to repel the men, but that I would never be able to resist him. I knew he was right. That night was the first time he raped me, and he continued coming to my cell each night until I was rescued. Not only did I have to withstand torture to nearly the point of death everyday, I also had my pride ripped from me. The only thing I had left were the secrets I guarded in my mind.

"When standard rape did not break me, he became enraged and stuck even more unpleasant things inside of me…like knives and sticks. He used whatever instruments he could find that would inflict the greatest amount of pain. He continued even after he knew such methods would not succeed because he enjoyed it –the power and humiliation.

"I began to hate my body; its weakness and vulnerability. Never before have I ever felt so worthless or so helpless. Nor have I ever felt such hatred. Durza perverted so much that the elves revere. Having a child is the greatest act of love and trust between two elves, and the act of creating a child is held in equal esteem. Now I can no longer stand to be touched, let alone become intimate with someone. I have never known sex other than rape!"

Arya whipped around to face Eragon, becoming enraged. "You say you love me," she accused, "But how can you love a person you cannot touch? How can you love a person who fears you? How can you love a person who does not love themself?" After this outburst, she fell silent, glaring at Eragon.

Suddenly the magnitude of Saphira's words crept into Eragon's mind. "Remember her vulnerability and do not betray her trust," she had said. He thought quickly, trying desperately to think of the right thing to say.

Praying to whatever gods were listening that he would do nothing to ruin their relationship, he met her eyes and said, "Arya, be sure that I do love you. Nothing you reveal to me can change that, for I don't love you for your perfection or your invulnerability. I love your smile and your laugh. I love your passion and your devotion to your people. I love your fearlessness in provoking anger in others, and I love the moments when you let your guard down. I love you, Arya, regardless of what has been done to you or whether or not you love yourself."

Eragon gauged her reaction to his declaration of love, and internally sighed in relief as her eyes softened. He hesitantly walked forward until they were inches apart. Acting on instinct (and truthfully, maybe a bit of a nudge from Saphira), he reached up slowly and tucked behind her ear the hair that had fallen in her face. She didn't react one way or another to his touch.

Emboldened by her acceptance, he continued speaking, "Arya, I love you, and I can think of no other way to express it to you, so I'm going to kiss you now…if that's okay."

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she didn't pull away as he cupped her cheek in his hand. Slowly, painfully slowly, Eragon leaned in, giving her the chance to refuse. Their eyes closed as their lips met, and he kissed her, his lips barely brushing hers. He felt her respond to the kiss in the moment before he pulled away and let his hand fall to his side.

Eragon rested his forehead against Arya's, eyes closed, breathing in her scent of crushed pine needles. After several moments she pulled away, but reached out and grasped his forearms. He opened his eyes and beheld her tension, her eyes still closed.

Remembering the times she ran from him, he prepared himself for her abrupt departure. Instead, she suddenly relaxed, and he gasped in surprise as she wrapped her arms around his torso and began to cry.

A/N: Um…so yeah. Thanks for your comments. I do appreciate them even though I don't beg for them. I got conflicting answers about changing the rating, which I probably should have expected. Anyway, I'm not going to change the rating because I think I was about as inexplicit as I could possibly be about the rape. But then, I work with rape and sexual abuse victims, so maybe my idea of "inexplicit" is different from other peoples'. If you were offended or something, let me know and I'll change it.