Eragon, under the orders of Nasuada, started preparing for the mission the instant he entered his tent. He got retrieved Saphira's saddle, and healed the few blemishes and marks that it had gained since the battle at Feinster. He took out his armour and sword and stowed them in the saddle bags. Then, after much debate, Eragon also took the book that Joed had give him from underneath his bed and tucked it carefully into the folds of a small blanket, which he also pushed deep into the saddle bags.
Afterwards, with nothing to occupy his hand and mind, Eragon's thoughts wandered. He thought of the dream that had haunted him that night. He thought of Arya, then Nienna, and then of Nasuada. Over and over again, their faces swam before his eyes until he could no longer bear it. Gritting his teeth, the young Rider pushed himself up from where he sat on the edge of his bed and strode out of the tent.
Where do I go now? Eragon wondered. Saphira was at the kitchens, eating, so a flight was out of the question. He could have visited Roran, and had made several steps toward the part of the camp in which his cousin stayed when he remembered that Roran had mentioned the night before that he was leaving the next day on a mission many miles away. So, with nothing to do and no one to do it with, Eragon turned on his heel and made to stride back into his home.
You could go for a walk, Saphira suggested. The fresh air will clear your head, if nothing else.
Eragon, half sat down, paused. Hmm. I have nothing better to do… why not? He pushed himself up again and exited the tent.
Several minutes into his walk, Eragon had to admit that Saphira had been right: the midday air had cleared his mind and his thoughts no longer wandered. He walked aimlessly, smiling freely at the few he met on his path. On a whim, he turned up the small hillside track on the hill that sat alongside the camp. Small, fragmented clouds drifted across the otherwise unblemished sky, and skylarks danced among them, rejoicing in their happy song.
Upon reaching the top of the hill, Eragon roamed about the small forest that sat atop it, observing the daily activities of the bees and woodland creatures that chirped, buzzed and hopped their way around.
Eragon followed the small forest path until he suddenly emerged into the bright sunshine. Blinking away the tears that formed in his eyes at the shock of light, the young Rider's heart doubled its pace as he realised he was no longer alone: Arya sat on the grass a short way from him, a vision of solitude, observing the perfect day from above.
"Drottningu," Eragon called happily, approaching the silent elf. Turning to face him, a beautiful smile graced Arya's face: such was the magnificence of that smile that Eragon felt his heart pause in its beating as if it, too, wished to stop and stare at the enigma that was the elven princess.
"Eragon," Arya smiled, patting the grass beside her in a remarkably human gesture. Eragon hurried to sit beside her. "A wonderful place to think, is it not?" She gestured to the land below them.
"Beautiful." Eragon did not take his eyes from her. The elf flushed, but did not meet his gaze.
"Are you prepared for tomorrow's mission?" She enquired after a lengthy pause. Her tone was light and easy, but Eragon guessed it took a lot of effort to make it that way.
"I am."
"What I mean to say is" –Arya tore her eyes from the countryside below her as she turned to finally face Eragon- "will you be safe?"
"I will have Saphira and my comrades," Eragon said slowly, puzzled. "I shall be safe enough." The elf nodded, looking away, but she did not seem completely satisfied. Eragon frowned. He reached out and boldly took her chin in his hand, forcing her gently to look at him. "What is it that troubles you?" He asked softly, scanning her eyes in concern. The elf refused to look at him, instead turning her gaze to the ground. "I-"
"Look!" the elf gasped, pointing. Eragon released her face, turning to look where she pointed. His mouth fell open in disbelief when he saw what she had indicated: a small, golden lily had grown amongst the grass.
-x-
Nienna, Nasuada hissed mentally, pacing up and down her tent. It had to be Nienna. But then again… would I have been just as upset had it been Arya? The leader of the Varden had no choice to conclude that this was so. Still, she was hurt, and the thought did not make it hurt any less. He will go, and she will ambush him with pretty words and gestures, and he shall forget about me.
Farica watched her Mistress anxiously as she paced back and forth, thinking occasionally to say something before thinking the better of it. When she was in a mood like this, what good would it do?
With a final groan, Nasuada pushed her way out of her tent, seeking out Eragon. She soon learnt that he had ascended the small hill along side the camp several minutes ago, and a cunning smile crossed her face. She would give him reason not to forget her name…
-x-
"Lovely, isn't it?" Arya breathed, moving closer to the small, shining bud. The golden petals shone in the midday sun, and the white metal leaves glistened like teardrops. Morning dew remained on the plant, dripping down the stem and into the soil beneath it.
"Lovely," Eragon whispered, sitting beside her once again. They did not speak for several more minutes, during which Eragon reached out and hesitantly took the elven princess' hand. She did not object.
-x-
Far below, in her tent, Nienna crowed silently. She beamed wickedly as she packed her small pack, not really paying attention to what she stuffed into the small, green bag.
Soon he shall be mine.
-x-
Arya and Eragon sat in silence for several minutes, staring at the gilded lily and clutching one another's hand. Sighing, Eragon reluctantly remembered his duty and turned his head with the intention of telling the beautiful elf that he would have to leave, and that he was sorry. However, when he turned, he realised with a thrill that Arya's face was much, much closer to his than he had anticipated, and she was staring at him.
Much, much closer.
Eragon swallowed nervously, making a small resolution to extract himself from the area before he could do something he regretted. "I-"
The rest of his words were stifled by the elf's lips.
As Arya's soft lips molded themselves to his, Eragon felt he finally understood the meaning of complete and utter belonging: he pressed one hand to the small of her back, pressing her closer towards him, whilst his other hand was still linked in hers. The elf responded enthusiastically to this movement.
Eragon.
Go away, Eragon grumbled mentally, pressing himself closer to the beautiful elf whose arms were tight around him. Her lips met his hungrily, like a starving man might attack a loaf of bread. He did not mind, though: he needed this just as much as she seemed to.
Eragon!
Shhhh!!
NASUADA IS COMING!
Eragon pulled away from the elf with a gasp. She did not seem to notice; she kissed his face, his neck, his throat, instead of his lips. It took all of Eragon's mental strength to push her away from him gently. She looked up at him in utter shock. "Nasuada is coming," he whispered to her. She gasped, and ran to hide. He began to follow her, but the elf pushed him back.
"No," she hissed. "She will wish to speak with you."
Eragon groaned, and pressed his lips to hers again desperately. She laughed and pushed him again. "Go!"
"Eragon?"
Nasuada's voice echoed through the trees, and Eragon automatically turned to meet the sound. When he turned back, the elf had gone.
"Eragon?"
"Here, my lady."
Eragon forced a smile as the woman stumbled into the clearing. She smiled widely at him, and approached, standing a little nearer than Eragon- or indeed Arya, concealed in a bush not far away, would have liked.
"Where have you been? We have been looking for you," Nasuada smiled. Was it just Eragon, or was her voice too smooth, her eyes too soft?
"Here," Eragon shrugged and gestured to the clearing in which they stood.
"I see. And will you be joining us again soon?"
"No. I wanted a peaceful, quiet walk in the snow, my lady."
Nasuada nodded. "Good. Well… there was something…"
She looked slightly nervous: Eragon took pity on her and smiled encouragingly. "Something I wished to talk with you about," Nasuada burst out. Arya, hidden in the trees, almost growled.
"Go ahead."
"I… well, it is difficult to explain, I…" the leader of the Varden looked up at the rider in desperation. Eragon smiled again.
"Explain however you can, my lady."
"However… I can?" Nasuada frowned. Eragon nodded. "Well in that case…"
Nasuada took a step toward the rider, freezing both him and the elf in the bushes in shock. The woman before him looked up at him, no longer nervous, with the steel spark of determination in her eyes. "I love you, Eragon," she whispered.
And then she kissed him.
-x-
AN: Ha! Told you I had a better scene for Arya planned! Hope you enjoyed it.
The dedication for this chapter is split several ways: firstly, for izlanzadi1995, my seventieth (!!) reviewer. Secondly, for my fiftieth reviewer, AvatarTwilightObsession (I like Twilight, too!!). Thirdly, for , who sent me the longest review I think I've ever had!!
Oh, and MarkedBenjamin? Please do not be so rude. I happen to not be planning on doing any of the things you suggested, and never have been. Your review upset me quite a bit- I hate it when people I haven't even met assume things about me. Rant over!!
The next chapter shall not be uploaded until I have THIRTY (That's right) reviews on this chapter!!!!
Love as always,
Arya xxx