Hello everybody. Once again I must make a massive apology to all of you for my long hiatus. I still haven't got the hang of balancing writing with University work and the rest of my life! I hope to cease disappointing you all with my lack of updates. I hope to do a little more writing each day so I can progress slowly but surely.

In this chapter, we return at last to New Vroengard and the romance between Eragon and Arya, which was supposed to be the only focus for this story. I'd like to confess that this story has gone on much longer than I intended. I had intended a small reunion fanfiction at 3-5 chapters at most. However I am still fully committed to finishing this story appropriately. I may post a much shorter version of this story in the future, according to the plans I originally had.

One more note. I'm planning for these chapter to be a bit shorter now. That way I can get them out a bit more quickly. One of my problems I think - apart from being lazy - is that when it comes to writing I'm a perfectionist and so my attention can last only so long. So the chapters you receive now will be shorter and have less stuff happening but hopefully they'll be followed up more quickly.

Enough of my prattle, on with the story at last!

One Last Problem

It was to feelings of warmth and strong smells that Arya awoke. Both sensations came from the warm body that was nestled against her back. She had fallen asleep on her right side, with a strong arm draped across her waist, its hand resting against her collarbone just above her chest. Behind her she was completely smothered by the gentle press of another warm body, equally as strong as the arm that held her close. It was a manner in which she was still becoming accustomed to waking up in. Since she had arrived in New Vroengard however, she had quickly become reluctant to go to sleep in any other way.

To look at the way Eragon hugged her from behind as she slumbered on her right hand side, his arm gently holding her close to his torso, one would have thought they had been newlyweds, in the early days of constant passion.

That was not the case.

Certainly Arya was in bliss as she awoke to the sound of Eragon's breathing on her neck before he kissed it and murmured a sweet 'Good morning' in her ear. As Eragon relinquished his position and left their bedding to prepare them tea from the small set in the corner of their tiny chamber, however, Arya was struck by an epiphany. One she felt the need to voice before she thought it better to do otherwise.

"In all this time, we haven't made love. And yet I've been here so long."

The clatter of a fallen kettle failed to break Arya's daze but Eragon's startled voice succeeded. "What was that?"

Arya's body flinched. "Did I just say that out loud?" She said sheepishly. Eragon, his back still turned so they could see each other, nodded his head before turning to look at her. She still had her back to him, as if she dare not look him in the eye. He decided it was best not to force eye contact.

"Arya, it's alright, there's no need to be embarrassed-"

"No Eragon, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that came out. It was foolish, I was just thinking and, I just forgot myself."

"That's fine Arya." The chuckle in Eragon's voice prompted her to turn around and look at him properly. He was still kneeling by the kettle but his handsome youthful face was now opening with a toothy grin. "It's always nice to hear your thoughts. It would be nicer to hear you be so frank more often."

Arya's indignant gasp brought laughter from Eragon and he turned back to the kettle, murmuring Brisingr through his mirth. Her former contented comfort and peace lost, Arya simply sighed with frustration and began rose to prepare herself for the day. She moved over to the wooden crate which contained her few belongings in the far corner of the room, opened it and began to sort out her leather training clothes and boots. As she did so however, she found she could not leave the subject of her slip-of-tongue to rest. As she mulled it over, everything became more and more absurd.

Forty years. Forty Years! Eragon has been celibate all this time. And he's just fine with it? As she ranted in her mind, she made sure to ward it against any intrusions, especially from Eragon. I've been here all these weeks and he's done nothing more than kiss me. That can't be normal, even for a Rider.

She looked over her shoulder as she pulled the last boot from the crate and pulled the lid down. Eragon was fixated on finishing the tea, for which the water had now boiled and there only remained the mixing of the herbs. He was still shirtless from his slumber, allowing Arya to appreciate the fine muscles and smooth skin of his back. Even when doing such light and menial as making tea, the thick slabs of hardened flesh were visibly shifting, if only very slightly, beneath the skin. Seeing such evidence of Eragon's strength and the lingering marks of youth on his far from young body, Arya was reminded yet again of what Eragon had been to her and, in some ways, still was.

He's still so young. He was practically a babe to me but he was still a man amongst others.

Of course Arya knew what young men were like. The elves were not that much different from the humans in that regard, although the former perhaps expected higher standards. Her time with the humans had brought her into contact with countless male youths who had each given her a strong impression of what the a young human man was supposed to be like. Rough, eager, hard to control and even harder to teach self-control. Eragon had been similar, at least initially. Then he began to change, and slowly Arya had begun to notice.

It must have been the Agaetí Blödhren. She thought to herself. Perhaps he rejection had broken something in him or perhaps it began to break something. Eragon certainly didn't change overnight, or at least Arya assumed. There had been many days between their interaction on that night and the meeting at the Burning Plains. Perhaps Eragon's apology for his behaviour there had been planned from immediately after his heartbreak. She had never thought to ask him, and perhaps it were best she wait before doing so.

She also decided to wait until she brought up the subject of their chaste relations until she had time think. And perhaps ask advice.