Hello!

First of all, I'm so sorry for leaving you all waiting for this chapter, especially after that little cliffhanger in the last one. And thanks so much for all the reviews I got!

And now, you won't have to wait any longer, (and hopefully not for the next few chapters either).

Chapter 21: Apology

Over the next few days, the shock Arya had experienced when learning about Eragon's feelings subsided, even though her mind hardly ever left the subject. She spent most of her time outside, avoiding any kind of contact with Eragon or Saphira. It was clear that Eragon wanted to talk to her, but since she had not yet managed to decide how to react to this, she refused to let him do so.

Of course, Arya knew that she could not go on treating a dragon and Rider like this either, because everyone who noticed it would suspect that she was offending them on purpose. And she could not afford to let anyone believe that.

Meanwhile, Arya noticed that she and her mother somehow had begun to develop a new relationship, after seventy years of anger. The queen knew of course nothing of what had happened between Arya and Eragon, but it still seemed as though she understood some of what Arya was going through at the moment. She had no idea what in her mother's behaviour gave her that feeling, because they rarely mentioned Eragon at all, but it still gave her a sense of comfort.

During the times when she could bring herself to think about something else, Arya wrote furiously. She felt as if she could flee right into her text and forget everything else. In fact, she noticed that writing on her poem gave her more rest than sleeping did, since her dreams were so full of all that which she had and had not thought during the day.

And in that way, the days passed. Soon, they flowed into one another, so that the only way in which Arya could tell them apart was by watching the rising and setting of the sun. But where as most elves thought of this as a peaceful way to live, the waiting soon became unbearable to her, again.

So, one sunny afternoon when she was walking along next to Islanzadí, she finally made her decision. Directly after the Blood-Oath Celebration, she would return to the Varden, to assist them like she had done before. She had already remained in Ellesméra for longer than she had thought she would, and if it had not been for the Agaetí Blödhren, she would have left tomorrow morning. That would also, she thought in a kind of grim satisfaction, free Eragon of her distracting presence, although he would surely not appreciate it.

Taking a deep breath, Arya explained to the queen what she had just decided, with an increasing feeling of unease within her. How would her mother react to this? Of course, she had known all the time how soon Arya needed to return to the Varden again, but still ...

However, all Islanzadí said once Arya had finished speaking was:

"Yes. I have been waiting for you to say something like that. And although you know I would rather wish you stayed for longer than this, I shall not prevent you."

"Thank you", said arya. "But ... there is something I must ask you."

"Yes?" her mother said, her surprise clearly noticeable both in her voice and her expression.

"Will you ...", Arya began, searching for the right words. "Will you give Nasuada and the Varden your support again?"

She had not asked the question so directly before, and almost expected her mother not to answer it.

"I thought you already knew", Islanzadí said finally. "I decided that the same evening you returned."

"Thank you", Arya said again. "And yes, perhaps I did know it already. I jus needed confirmation."

"Yes", Islanzadí said. "I am glad that you will stay over the celebration, Arya."

Her words caused Arya to laugh, something she felt like she had not done in weeks.

"I would not miss that opportunity", she said. "Not now, when I have the choice to stay."

As Arya walked back towards her house that evening, she thought for the first time since she had arrived at Ellesméra of what the Varden might be doing now. Had they managed to reach Surda? Was Orrin willing to give them his support? How was Nasuada doing as leader of the resistance against Galbatorix?

I should have thought about all this before, Arya thought. How can I have been so forgetful? I have only cared about my own problems.

The realization made her feel ashamed of herself. Of course, she knew that contacting Nasuada and the Varden would not be the easiest thing in the world. But still, she could have paid them a thought, could have asked herself if they had even survived the journey to Surda.

Well, she thought, opening the door to her house. She had been forgetful, but she would make up for that as soon as she joined the Varden again.

There, Arya's thoughts stopped altogether. Standing by her window with his head bent forwards was ...

No, she thought. No, it cannot be him. How did he find his way? And why ...

At the same time, Eragon turned around, and she saw that he was holding a scroll in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. He had been reading her poem, although no one was supposed to see it until the Agaetí Blödhren. And he had entered her house without her permission. Even without her knowledge.

Their eyes met, and Arya managed with an effort to conceal her feelings behind her usual blank, indifferent expression. The air in the room felt tense, as if it was vibrating with some kind of magical power. And that, Arya thought, was a description as good as any.

Then, Eragon lifted the bouquet of flowers and said in a tone that revealed much uncertainty:

"I don't know how to make a blossom for you, like Fäolin did. But these are honest flowers, and the best I could find."

"I cannot accept them, Eragon", Arya replied flatly, wondering where this conversation would lead.

"They're not ...", Eragon began, evidently searching for words. "They're not that sort of gift."

He hesitated for some time, and she found herself wondering if he had prepared what to say, but had now forgotten it.

"It's no excuse", Eragon said finally. "But I didn't realize before that my Fairth would put you in such a difficult situation. For that I'm sorry, and I cry your pardon. I was just trying to make a Fairth, not cause trouble. I understand the importance of my studies, Arya, and you needn't fear I will neglect them in order to moon after you. That's all."

Eragon fell silent, staggering and leaning against the wall behind him, as if he needed support. And Arya noticed now how pale his face was, how tired he looked. Hadn't Oromis been able to do anything to heal him?

A warm feeling suddenly surged up within her. It was not that strange longing she had experienced before, which had frightened her so much that she wanted to run away into the forest again. It was more ... compassion. Sympathy. Yes, that was the word. She felt sympathy with Eragon for what he had to do, and she wished she could help him in some way.

Reaching out her hand, Arya took the flowers from him. They smelled sweet, reminding her of when the spring had just arrived to the forest. That was the season which elves enjoyed the most, when all the flowers were starting to grow, and life could be seen wherever you looked.

"They are honest flowers", Arya agreed in a soft voice, and then she asked: "Have you been ill?"

"No", Eragon said. "My back ..."

He fell silent, but she needed no more words to understand. She had heard from Oromis that Eragon's injury had given him more difficulties lately. But she had thought that Oromis, who was probably the wisest person she knew, could have done anything. At least, he could have reduced the pain, if healing the wound lay beyond his ability.

"I should go", Eragon said, but Arya suddenly burst out:

"Wait!"

She realized that she did not want him to go. Her anger seemed to have faded away altogether, and she wanted to talk, to make up for that time when she had not even allowed herself to meet his eyes.

Arya led Eragon over to the bench below her window, and then started to make tea. Everything was quiet now, but for the distant sounds coming from outside. Arya found she enjoyed it, in the same way she had done when showing Eragon and Saphira to the Menoa Tree. And she could see in Eragon's face that he felt the same.

"I wish ...", Eragon began after a silent minute. "I wish it could always be like this. It's so perfect and quiet."

Arya did not reply, but asked instead:

"How is Saphira?"

"The same", Eragon replied. "And you?"

"I have been preparing to return to the Varden", she said, wondering how the news would affect him.

"When?" Eragon asked, giving her a look of badly concealed alarm.

"After the Blood-Oath Celebration", Arya said, and then she explained her reasons for staying so long in Ellesméra.

The minutes passed in silence. Arya looked out of the window, at all the elves wandering along the paths. Then, she returned her gaze to Eragon, finally unable to keep from asking the question she had been thinking of for such a long time now.

"Is there nothing Oromis can do for you?"

"He tried everything he knows", Eragon replied in a weary tone.

"Your studies go well though?" Arya went on.

"They do."

Eragon lifted up the peace of paper on which her poem was written, watching every glyph closely.

"Do you write much poetry?" he asked then.

Taking the paper and rolling it up, Arya answered:

"It is custom that everyone who attends the Blood-Oath Celebration should bring a poem, a song or any other piece of art that they have made, and share it with those assembled. I have but begun to work on mine."

"I think it's quite good", he said.

"If you had read much poetry ...", Arya began, but she was interrupted by Eragon.

"I have", he said simply.

Arya was silent. His words had caused her to revalue him, again. She had not thought of it, but now realized exactly how much Eragon had changed since she had first met him. He was not the person he had been then.

"No", was all Eragon said once she expressed these thoughts to him. "I ..."

He paused again, and she understood that he was unsure how she would react to his next words. Silently, she waited.

"Arya", Eragon said finally. "You'll be leaving soon enough, and I would count it a shame if this is the last I see of you between now and then. Could we not meet occasionally, as we did before, and you could show Saphira and me more of Ellesméra?"

"It would not be wise", Arya responded, hoping that her voice did not sound too stern.

With a look of helplessness, Eragon said:

"I cannot help how I feel towards you. But I would rather suffer another wound from Durza than allow my foolishness to destroy the companionship that existed between us. I value it too highly."

"Our friendship shall endure, Eragon", Arya promised, for some reason feeling a kind of relief within her as she released the words. "As for us spending time together ... perhaps. However, we shall have to wait and see what the future brings, for I am busy and can promise nothing."

Eragon looked at her, and she could see a faint smile on his lips as he said:

"Of course, Arya Svit-Kona."

They sat together for a few more minutes, and then Eragon left.

When he had gone, Arya went to bed, still with that feeling of relief possessing her mind. The conversation had calmed her, and she thought again of the changes that had come over Eragon. Perhaps that would mean that it would be easier for them to be together, without anything happening that could ruin their friendship again.

With that comforting thought in her mind, Arya closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift away from everything. And this time, her dreams were full of completely different pictures and impressions.