Arya looked up slowly. Nasuada, Blödhgarm and Angela had paused by the door. There was a quiet gasp from someone- she wasn't sure who- as they surveyed her condition, but she didn't care. Blödhgarm, who was carrying a torch, was the first one to move. He covered the short distance between them in an instant, Nasuada and Angela following moments behind. As the glow from the torch fell on her she squinted slightly, unused to the light. Blödhgarm raised his hand and unlocked the chains around her wrist. She tried to step away from the wall, but her knees buckled. He caught her just before she fell.

"Easy, easy…"

He lowered her gently to the ground. Nasuada knelt beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. Arya winced slightly as pain lanced across her back at the touch. Nasuada noticed her reaction and withdrew her hand, but she looked concerned, afraid.

"Arya, what happened?"

Arya just shook her head and raised a finger, pointing to the center of the room. She wanted to say something, to explain, but could think of nothing. So she just pointed. Angela took the torch from Blödhgarm and walked across the room. The light fell on Eragon's body as they fell to darkness. Her rescuers stared in shock. Angela let loose a loud stream of curses directed at those responsible. Silence followed. No one moved. All just stared at the body. Then Arya spoke, so quietly that at any other time it would have gone unnoticed. But here, far underground, with only the sound of their breathing, it echoed as if she had shouted.

"He is dead."

Nasuada's eyes widened.

"No… it cannot be…"

Arya pulled her legs up and hid her face in her knees.

My fault… gone…

"No. He isn't dead."

Arya slowly raised her head as the implications of those words sunk in.

"What?"

Angela pulled her hand away from Eragon's throat.

"Well, unless riders are different from the rest of us in that they have a pulse when deceased… Blödhgarm, I'll need your assistance in healing him. Just because he's alive now doesn't mean he will be if we don't do something rather quickly."

Blödhgarm murmured something to Nasuada as he stood, but Arya was back to not noticing. Eragon was alive? How could that be? She had observed his unmoving body for hours… Or had it moved? Suddenly she wasn't sure. Nothing was sure. She must have been mistaken. But after hours of watching, she still hadn't noticed her mistake? She didn't realize she had voiced her thoughts until Nasuada replied.

"The mind is a powerful thing, Arya. It can show you something that never was, so long as you believe it to be."

Had she truly fooled herself so much? But looking up at Angela and Blödhgarm, busy healing, she knew it must be. He was alive… She felt shocked. Unsure. Now that her senses had failed her once, she couldn't trust them again. Was any of this real? Surely it was, she was out of her chains…

Or I've gone mad…

Unfortunately, given the circumstances, that was appearing to be the more likely option. She looked up at Eragon, who, she now knew, was alive. If this was madness, perhaps it wasn't so terrible.

Nasuada reached out and took her upper arm gently.

"Arya, how badly are you injured?"

Arya looked up, and sighed.

"I am as well as can be expected, Nasuada. Nothing that cannot wait a while."

In truth, she hurt all over. Her ribcage killed her every time she moved. But Eragon was in far worse shape than she. She was not going to let them worry over her when every last bit of energy would be required to help the rider. Nasuada eyed her, eyebrows raised, as if she didn't really believe her. But, wisely, she chose to drop the subject, and instead picked up a leather bag that Arya had not previously noticed. Reaching in, Nasuada pulled out two blankets- one of which she handed to Arya- bread, fruit, and a water skin. Arya took the blanket gratefully and wrapped it around her front. She left her back uncovered: the moment anything touched it the deep cuts and bruises there flared up in protest. This did not go unnoticed by Nasuada either, she was sure. But as leader of the Varden Nasuada had apparently learned a great deal of diplomacy, for she still said nothing. Or at least she said nothing on that particular subject. Outside of that subject, the interrogation continued.

"When was the last time you had food or water?"

Arya had to stop and think. Food while prisoner she had no recollection of, because there had been none. They had both been forced to drink something a few times, presumably water, though it had been grayish and cloudy, with the occasional odd, slimy lump that she assumed was algae of some sort.

"Water… they gave us something to drink once or twice, I suppose. And I haven't eaten since we before we were captured."

Nasuada's eyes widened slightly as she handed Arya the water skin. Arya opened her mouth and poured some in. It was amazing. She had never really paid attention to how water tasted… In fact, she had always thought of water as tasteless. But now she had never tasted anything so wonderful in her life. It soothed her throat, rushing across her tongue in a cool current of liquid ecstasy.

"Drink it slowly at first, a little at a time… But, Arya… water once or twice? And nothing to eat? It's been five days, and…"

But the rest of her questions were lost on Arya. Five days. They had been down here five days. It had seemed like an eternity, lasting forever, except perhaps the rests, which had been far to short. She couldn't believe that all of that time, weeks it had seemed, had really amounted to so little…

"Only five days…" She murmured aloud.

Nasuada looked at her sympathetically, as if understanding how long they had really been down here. Eternity didn't cut it, five days certainly didn't. But, for the third time, she did not respond, and Arya realized that somehow this human girl understood that she wouldn't be able to talk about anything yet. That Arya had been through hell and was overwhelmed, and that had anyone asked, she would probably take his or her head off before she admitted it. Humbled slightly, (the word sounded strange in her own mind: humbled. Arya humbled. Huh.) she took the piece of bread that Nasuada was offering her, and attempted to turn her attention somewhere other than her pride-fall. Her mind was clearing now, and she was changing back from the frightened, confused elf she had been seconds ago. She was becoming herself again, and she would not spend her time running confused circles in her head.

As had happened so often lately, her attention turned automatically to Eragon. Blödhgarm stood near his head. The elf had removed the stakes from Eragon's wrists and ankles and was now muttering spells over the wounds, healing them at least to the point where they would no longer be a threat. Angela was working on the intense burns on Eragon's torso, spreading some kind of salve from a carved wooden box. A minute later, Blödhgarm stepped back, his face drained.

"I can do no more for now: I am too weary from the battle. We must return him to the surface and get him to more healers."

Angela nodded, and they began to scavenge around the room for anything to make a stretcher out of. Nasuada went to help them, and a few minutes later they had assembled a sturdy enough transport from two spear shafts and the other of the two blankets that Nasuada had brought. As carefully as he could, Blödhgarm lifted the unconscious Eragon off of the table, and Angela and Nasuada slid the stretcher underneath. Blödhgarm laid Eragon back down, and then went to grab one end of the stretcher, Angela taking the other. Nasuada watched from the side, making sure that Eragon was secure, before walking over to give Arya a hand up.

Arya rose slowly, wincing at the pain that flared up all over, but she walked steadily next to Nasuada as they crossed the room again, ignoring the pain. Eragon had to get out quickly. She and Nasuada stood on either side of the stretcher, ready to help steady it if need be. They didn't have worried. Blödhgarm had the grace and strength of and elf, and Angela, for all of her oddities, near that. The stretcher swayed easily, even on the stairs that started almost directly outside the chamber door. So Arya merely walked along, absorbing the fact that they were free, and that Eragon was alive. She wasn't alone; she wouldn't have to carry his last messages…

Suddenly a horrible thought struck her.

"Where is Saphira?"

She would have thought that the great dragon would have come immediately to search for her rider, and fact that she was not there was not a good sign.

"Ah. Yes," Said Angela, "Saphira is currently quite a few flights up from here, where the passage narrowed to the point that she could not pass. She was rather… disgruntled… to have to remain behind, and I assume in short order we will be able to hear her roaring and clawing the walls."

Relief flooded Arya. Saphira was all right. Her lover's second half was safe, and her freedom was complete.

They had been walking in silence for a few minutes when Eragon let out a low groan and opened his eyes. Arya watched carefully as he blinked a few times, bringing his vision into focus.

"Arya?"

His voice was hoarse and cracking, but it was his voice. His voice saying her name, saying it the way it was meant to be said. She smiled, and touched his hand, leaning over him slightly so that he could see her.

"Right here, Eragon. We're out. Nasuada and Angela and Blödhgarm found us. They healed you as best they can for now, and we're getting you to more healers. You're going to be okay. Saphira is waiting for us farther up: she couldn't fit down the passages."

"Arya…"

He didn't look like he had grasped a single word she had said beyond "found" and "okay", but that was understandable. His eyes were already closing again: he was exhausted. But then he did something Arya didn't expect, nor would have ever expected. He reached up with his good arm and placed it on the back of her neck, pulling her head down. Then, gently, he kissed her. She was shocked for a moment, hesitant to open up to him, but then she made her choice. She wasn't going to hide again. She smiled slightly and kissed him back. His hand slowly went slack against her neck, and when she rose he was unconscious again, but that didn't matter. She smiled more as she watched his face, and then looked up. She was greeted by three completely different reactions. Blödhgarm was looking straight ahead, as he had been the whole time, and seemed unsurprised that his princess had kissed the Rider. Angela was smirking, and when she caught Arya's eye she mouthed "it's about time!" Nasuada was looking between Eragon and Arya in shocked confusion, obviously having no idea how to react. Arya bit back laughter at that, (especially since she guessed that laughter would hurt her ribs a lot) and turned to face forward. Life was looking up.

It seemed to take a long time to reach the ground-level floors of Urû'Baen, but finally they did. As Angela had predicted, they had been hearing Saphira snarling angrily for a while, getting louder and louder as they approached. Finally they came around a corner, and there she was. Her head was through the door that had held her back, and she was growling furiously. The horrible screech of claws on stone could be heard from the other side. When the great Dragon saw her injured rider, the roar that followed was deafening, rebounding off of the stone walls and echoing throughout the castle.

Nasuada winced slightly, and looked at Saphira.

"Please, Saphira, not so loud. Would you repeat your questions?" The leader of the Varden nodded, and then turned to Arya.

"She wants to know why your mind slips through her grasp every time she tries to speak to you, and who has done this Eragon. I have answered the first question with what I assume is the correct response: that you are drugged, but the second I do not know myself."

Arya nodded slightly.

"A man that Eragon and I simply called "The Captain" was responsible, he and the soldiers in his command. The Captain ordered the soldiers, but they took great pleasure in what they did. The only one that did not seem to be enjoying the proceedings was the magician who was among them, but he did not help us, either. It was strange. You would have thought that Murtagh or even Galbatorix himself would have come to gloat, but they must have been too concerned with the war, too confident that we would never escape and that they could come later. We didn't see either of them…"

Nasuada nodded.

"I suppose that now is not the time for further details. You know that I am going to ask you for the full story later, Arya… not now, however. Let's get moving."

Saphira withdrew her head from the remains of the door and allowed the group to step through. Now that there were no more stairs, they moved more quickly. Arya was surprised at the lack of windows in the castle of Urû'Baen. Though the others said that they were on ground level, she saw no difference from the dungeons. It was dark, cold, and damp, the only encouraging difference being an increase in torches. Despite this, it was only minutes later that they were standing at a set of large, wooden doors. Arya realized that this was it. She was about to see sunlight when she had only seen darkness for five days. Nasuada reached out and pulled on the large, iron handle to open the left door. Arya squinted slightly, preparing for the bright light she was sure was coming.

It was dark outside. She was suddenly very confused, as she realized that she had had no idea what time it was. She had only assumed that it was day, but now she observed the sky. The stars were shining; the moon was low in the sky. Given the time of year, she guessed that it was a few hours past midnight. She felt oddly disoriented. Though it had been dark in the dungeons, she had always thought of it as day outside, and now she had to readjust her internal clock.

Saphira stretched her head out and sniffed Eragon impatiently. She growled again. Nasuada raised an eyebrow.

"Saphira, I'm not sure-"

But she didn't finish. Saphira reached out and grabbed the tattered back of Arya's tunic and lifted her up onto her back. Arya couldn't help the cry of pain as the sudden movement jarred her bruised and broken body. Thankfully, no one noticed: they were too busy. Nasuada and Blödhgarm were trying hopelessly to stop Saphira as she launched into the air, quickly but carefully grabbed Eragon's stretcher, and headed for the Varden's medical tent. As the three figures standing in the door of the castle of Urû'Baen shrank away, Arya's elven hearing caught Angela's amused remark.

"Don't bother. She knows that Eragon and Arya are injured, and she's bringing them to the medical tent. Not many people have stopped a Dragon protecting her Rider and lived. Let's just get moving. I don't trust half your healers, Nasuada…"