I'M BACK! After slightly more than a year, yes, I have remembered this story and am updating it. I will try to be more prompt in the future, though I am also juggling two other fics at the moment (both Invader Zim, if you happen to have ever watched that show feel free to look them up via my profile...please), so we'll have to see.

Anyway, about this chapter. Not sure if anyone else has ever seen these books, but I've seen at the bookstore these kind of weird novels that are supposed to be prep for the SATs--basically, they're normal books with your typical popular stories, except they're full of SAT-type vocabulary words with footnotes and definitions on the bottom of each page. Those inspired me to write this, rather more humorous, version myself. Definitions are at the end of the story, if you need them. Anyway, enjoy; I hope it's good enough to make up for my long absence.

Chapter Eleven
Arya's SAT Prep

Eragon rapped the door three times with his knuckles. "Arya!" he called. "Arya, are you there? We have to get to the Varden's meeting to discuss our next plans to fight Galbatorix!"

"Urgh," said Orik, grimacing.

"What?" asked Eragon, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing, that sentence was just so...expository."

Eragon rolled his eyes and turned back to the doors of Arya's quarters (more exposition there...you know, just in case). He knocked. "Arya! Arya, are ya in there?"

"Just a second!" she called from inside. She sounded strained and extremely happy.

"Well, what's taking you? Finish sculpting your eyebrows and let's go, we're late!"

"Just a second! I'm busy masticating(1)!"

Eragon and Orik both blinked, then looked at each other. "Did she just say what I think she said?" Eragon asked.

Just then the door opened, and Arya emerged, a look of supreme pleasure on her face. "Mmm...that was some of the best mastication EVER," she said, licking some chocolate frosting off her fingers. "Anyway, come on, we have to get to the meeting."

And she walked off, leaving the slightly stunned pair behind. Orik looked confused; Eragon, mildly excited. After a moment they both followed behind her.

They got to the chamber where Nasuada was meeting with the other prominent members of the Varden; when they arrived only two people were already there, two men sitting by the fire named. One was named Hvitsärk Náttfarison; the other was named Bob Smith. They were talking together in low, measured tones.

"Did you hear about Njáll and Ted?" Hvitsärk asked, glancing up slightly as Eragon, Arya and Orik answered.

"Aye," said Ted, looking concerned. "Found together in the men's bathroom."

"Aye," Hvitsärk agreed. "What do you think should be done about it?"

"I don't know," Ted said, concerned. "On the one hand, I like the both of them. On the other hand, the idea of two men being together disturbs me greatly, even though that makes little historical sense since most of the cultures that historically have disapproved of homosexuality have been based on Abrahamic theology, whereas we seem to be pagan, with some hints of a mostly Nordic branch."

"Aye," Hvitsärk agreed. "And the fact that warrior societies actually tend to approve of it more than other cultures, as it builds a greater level of camaraderie between soldiers. Still, because Joe-Merl is basing us on the various authors and fanficers who try to make anachronistic social points with their stories, I still feel greatly disturbed by it." He turned now to Eragon and Orik, who were seated at the table, and Arya, who was still standing, her back to them, facing the dying hearth. "What do you all think?"

"I do not know either," Eragon said. "On the one hand, in the small village where I grew up, such relationships would have been greatly frowned upon, because such authors and fanficers tend to equate old medieval villages to modern small towns in the Southern United States. Yet, if I were to ask the elves, I am sure they would fully support any kind of sexual relationship, and probably give them marriage rights (even though they don't even have heterosexual marriage). I am truly puzzled."

"What do you think, Arya?" Orik asked.

"What?" Arya wasn't paying attention; she was staring into the dying fire, frowning. "Oh, I don't know...hmm, I think we should throw a few more faggots(2) into the fire, don't you?"

"WHAT?!" said Orik, eyes wide.

Hvitsärk was surprised too. "I--er, didn't think you would feel that way," he said, a bit stunned.

"Well, of course you can't do it all the time," Arya said--after all, she thought, these were precious trees we were talking about--"but yes, throwing a few faggots into the fire now and then is permissible. Even necessary, for the good of the people around them."

Hvitsärk and Bob looked at each other. Hvitsärk shrugged. "Alright...I guess we'll take your advice."

And they got up and left to go find Njáll and Ted.

Eragon and Orik were still gaping at Arya when the door opened. Nasuada came in, looking tired, her arms full of papers. "Hello, everyone," she mumbled, sitting down at the table and dropping her burden with a sigh.

"What's the matter?" Orik asked, frowning at her.

"Oh, it's just this whole money issue with the Varden," she sighed, sifting through her many papers and books. "I need to come up with some way to get more money, but I just don't know how. We can barely even afford food right now...we can only afford the cheapest of stale breads from the local bakeries, and we're down to buying store-brand diet cola. If we don't come up with some new source of money soon, our troops will all starve!"

"Oh, Nasuada," Arya said, crossing her arms and shaking her head. "Really, my friend, that will not due. You're acting like such a niggard(3)."

For the third time in one chapter, Eragon and Orik's eyes went wide. Nasuada looked as though she had been slapped. "What...did you say?"

"Well, I'm sorry, Nasuada," said Arya, in that maddening calm, Mary-Sueish tone she using after horribly insulting people, "but you're just acting awfully niggardly. I mean, really, maybe niggards like you just aren't smart enough to run an organization as complex as the Varden--unlike we smart, economical elves."

Nasuada stood from her chair, stalking and glaring at Arya. "You shut your mouth, bitch," she snarled, snapping her fingers in full cliched-sassy-black-chick fashion.

"Oh, now, don't get all insulted," Arya said, seeming hurt that Nasuada was taking her money advice so badly. "I mean, alright, you're not good with these kinds of decisions, but you're good at other things. You put in a lot of hard work, and I've seen you in battle, you're great at chucking a spear--"

"Okay, THAT'S it! ARGH!"

"Agh!"

Nasuada leapt onto Arya, wrestling her to the ground, as Eragon and Orik looked on, still stunned (and in Eragon's case...yeah, a little turned on).

"Die, cracka!"

"Agh!"

The moral of the story is, choose your words carefully, or you could wind up like Arya, who you can now find in the dictionary next to the term "faux pas." Also, while you're there, check and you'll discover that "gullible" isn't in there. No, really. I swear. Heh-heh.

WORD BANK:

(1) Masticate (verb): to chew

(2) Faggot (noun): a log.

(3) Niggard (noun): a cheap, stingy person.

Random note: I would just love for Hillary Clinton to try to use the word "niggard" in a speech. Like, "Barack Obama's health care plan does not go far enough; he says he's trying to conserve money, but with the problems facing Americans today, I say he's just being a niggard." This has nothing to do with my politics; I would just find it endlessly amusing.