A.N. It snowed! And I finally got a beta. So thanks to ShinkuNamide for taking this on. Other then that, there are no major announcements to make. So read and enjoy.

"Eragon, would you come here a minute?" He glanced up. He had been drawing patterns in the snow with a stick. Arya walked over to where he was and gave him a critical look. "Why aren't you wearing a coat?"

Eragon looked startled. "I didn't realize…"

She sighed. "You can't stand to be getting ill with your condition." She shook her head and continued. "I was going to tell you that my mother wishes to speak with us. She… she heard about our relationship when you were taken."

Eragon's shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly and he nodded stiffly, dropping the stick and following Arya into her cabin. He looked around, not having seen the interior of her cabin before. Arya had taken the time to make her cabin her own in small ways. A fairth of her father and her sat on a table. Another fairth of Wyrda at his hatching hung on the wall. There were several other small touches as well.

Eragon looked at the mirror nervously, and Arya smiled at him reassuringly, though it was obvious that she too was anxious. "She has never had any semblance of control over my life, Eragon. In any regard."

She cast the spell on the full length mirror set up in her cabin and the image blurred from the reflection of the room they were in to display the Queen of the Elves, scowling. Eragon raised his fingers to his lips and began the ritual greeting. The queen responded, and then Arya repeated the greeting.

Arya walked from beside the mirror and went to sit beside Eragon where he had sat on her bed, close enough to him that her knee was touching his. She returned the scowl her mother was giving them coldly. Eragon watched the glaring contest between the two elven monarchs uncomfortably at the challenge between them.

Queen Islanzadí broke the glare first and then looked at Eragon. "Eragon, while my daughter seeks to ignore me and my counsel, you have sense. This… this relationship must end."

"Why?" Eragon had no intentions on changing anything with Arya, but he would do his best not to upset the queen.

The queen was absently crumpling a small piece of silk between her hands. "Arya is my daughter, the heir to the throne, she is a hundred years your senior –you are naught but a child,– she is an elf and you are human. And we are in a war. To begin a relationship… You will only hurt her and yourself."

Eragon was unsurprised to see the same arguments that Arya had held him back with from the beginning. He felt Arya's hand rest on his knee and took a breath, considering his words.

"I was no longer a human after the Agaetí Blodhren. I-"

She cut in. "Then pray tell what you are if not a human. For you are no elf."

Eragon shrugged. "I am a Rider." He said simply. "And your daughter is as well. She is no longer the heir to the elven throne either. Not since Wyrda hatched." He frowned. "While I would never deny that I do not have many years, I was no longer a child the moment that my uncle, Garrow, was killed. I have seen and done things that most elves have never done and things they will never be forced to do. The burden of the war and the responsibility of the king have been placed solely on my shoulders. I am no child."

"Be as it may, that does not change at all the fact that we are in a war, and becoming close to someone will only ever result in them being torn away."

Arya, who had been keeping quiet, suddenly spoke. "Mother. When in my life have I been truly happy? The closest I came was when I was with Faolin." She took a deep breath, her eyes moist. "You disapproved of him as well."

"And I was right. That has caused you much grief, has it not?"

"Faolin was killed, yes, but would you deny me happiness. Even a brief time of joy is better than none. Would you design me to live the entirety of my life alone? Eragon makes me happy, mother. I will not give that up solely because you disapprove."

Eragon put his arm around her and Arya let out the breath she had been holding.

The queen frowned. "You have not known each other a year. You are not meant to be together."

"And you would know how?" Arya frowned. "Do not pretend to understand me, mother. Tell me, did you speak to me once when I returned from Gilead? You still blame me for our tarnished relationship. What have I done? And do not pretend to know Eragon either."

The queen was silent for a long while, looking at the two of them. "There is no way either of you will change your minds?" She seemed to already know the answer.

"I will not."

"Never."

She nodded wearily. "Arya, I lost your father to the first Rider War. I do not wish to lose you again as I lost you when you were taken to Gilead. If I must deal with this for us not to be estranged again, I will."

"Thank you." Arya said quietly.

Her mother turned to address some person beyond their view. "I must go." With a sharp nod, but no other dismissal, the queen cut the spell on her end and disappeared from her sight.

Tension that had seemed to be filling the room faded and they relaxed, not speaking. Eragon met her eyes. "I never meant to come between you and your mother."

Arya shook her head. "Don't blame yourself. My mother and I have rarely been on better terms than we are at this moment, and better that we have been for sixty years."

Eragon stood and walked over to the table where the fairth of her and her father was. A tall elven man with a smile stood in the forest, the mixture of shadow and light dappling the ground and the trees stretching all around. A laughing young girl clung to her father's hand, not a care in the world was in her mind as he made colored lights with magic before her eyes. He smiled.

"Do you miss him?"

Arya came over and took the fairth to examine it closer. Then she closed her eyes in thought. "My memories of him are like a dream, half forgotten yet vivid and wonderful. I was but a child when he passed into the Void." She looked down at the fairth again. "Yes. I miss him."

He nodded and then met her eyes, biting his lip slightly as he hesitated.

"What is it, Eragon?"

He watched her intently. "I want you to know my true name."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Eragon-"

He took her hand. "I know the significance and what it means to tell, Arya, and I trust you. I wish for you to know it."

She was silent for a long while before she nodded slightly. "I am honored that you want to share your true name with me, Eragon."

Eragon took a breath and then locked eyes with her, pushing aside the self-consciousness rising within him. Quietly, he spoke his name. She listened and then considered him without speaking.

His name was a phrase, but it captured his entire being in it. It spoke of his good, his loyalty, his honesty, and his morality. It pointed toward his determination and hopefulness. His love. But it also exposed his faults, his stubbornness and selfishness, but it was the end which caused Arya to take his hand in hers. In his name he bore the burden of the world. The burden others had placed on his shoulders."

She did not speak for a moment and Eragon felt bare. She could see him without any of his masks he wore or the façades he hid behind. Then she repeated his name in a whisper and smiled at him. "It is a good name." he glanced down. Arya shifted.

"I want you to know mine."

Her voice was soft enough that he almost didn't hear. "Are you sure?"

She looked up to meet his eyes. "I have never told anyone my true name before." She admitted. "Wyrda doesn't even know." She took a breath. "But yes, I am sure."

He nodded and waited, patient because he knew she was feeling as nervous and hesitant as he had been before he had garnered enough courage to utter his Name. After a while, she whispered her name.

The Truth about Arya hit him with surprise and he realized that though he knew her better than anyone save Wyrda, he had only touched the surface of who she was. Her name was longer than his and held a tone of sadness. It bespoke her solitariness and her dread of what came from bonding with others. He learned new things about her that he would not have expected. There was joy also in her name along with hope.

Eragon realized suddenly that Arya was watching him nervously, waiting for him to speak. Wanting to reliever her anxiety, but unsure of what he could say, Eragon stepped forward and embraced her. "I am glad to know you." He said quietly to her.

Arya was still for a moment and then pulled away from him. "My Name changed in Gilead." She said quietly. "Before, I was more open, but after…" she trailed off and silence overtook them. Neither spoke again until they parted at sunset to rest.

"What now?" Roran growled, scowling as he turned Snowfire to face the person riding up behind him . "I don't have time for- Oh, Baldor." Roran said awkwardly. "I thought you were…"

"Someone else, no doubt." His friend from Carvahall said with an amused smirk. "Can't you try to get along with her?"

Roran huffed. "She won't be serious. We are on a mission. We are going to attack Tilgrim. Men will die. And she jokes." He shook his head in annoyance. "Whatever possessed Nasuada to send her on this, to name her second-in-command, is beyond me."

Laughter rang out from the men behind Roran and he looked over his shoulder to see Vea riding in the middle of a crowd, telling stories again, distracting his men from what would be coming. "Vea!" He shouted. "Come here!"

Baldor shook his head and went to rejoin the other men. Vea rode up on her black mare. She had received it from Nasuada before they departed. It was pure black, even its hooves and mane were pure black. She had named it Nightmare, to her own amusement, and no one else dared near her horse as it was spirited and had already injured several people.

To his annoyance, both of the werecats, hers and Alia, flanked her as she rode over to him.

"Yes?"

"I want to talk to you-"

"Obviously." She stated dryly.

"What are you playing at?" Roran demanded. "Those men may be marching to their deaths and you joke. You laugh and pretend as if this is all a big game. You joke and make merry, not caring that these soldiers might not live out the week."

He was surprised to see her eyes narrow and her mouth tighten into an angry line. "Is that really what you think?" She asked in a quiet voice. "Then you are a fool."

"It-"

She cut him off. "Look at your men, Stronghammer, and tell me what you see."

Roran glared at her and then grudgingly looked back to watch his soldiers marching. The men behind him were talking and smiling among each other. Suddenly it struck him as odd their behavior. The other missions he had led the men were morose and silent as if marching to their deaths. The only time they would talk and laugh was late at night as they gambled and drank.

Vea nodded. "You understand now. I am distracting them, but I am not distracting them from the task at hand. I am simply helping them forget some of their fear and worry."

"I…" Roran sighed. He knew she was right. "I apologize. I did not see the purpose of your actions."

Roran fell silent as Vea rode stiffly in her saddle, not acknowledging him. Alia leapt up onto his lap to settle for a nap. Roran sighed.

Vea finally looked over. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Depends."

She nodded. "Why do you fight with the determination that you do." She stopped him before he answered. "I know your story. Everyone does, but now Katrina is safe from the Ra'zac and remaining with the army puts her in more danger than before."

Roran was silent.

"If you don't want to answer-"

"No, I see your point." He sighed. "Galbatorix, if the Varden loses, would hunt down me and Katrina and, she's pregnant. He would destroy our family because we are Eragon's family. We are seen as a danger to him." He looked over. "I want to help get rid of him. I want to make the world safe for my child."

She nodded and looked away. Roran rode on for a while before turning. "So why do you fight?"

He wasn't expecting the fear that came into her eyes. Vea bit her lip. "I… No. I won't answer that."

He stared at her in surprise. "Um, are you alright?"

"Galbatorix does not even deserve death." She said quietly. "There is no fate cruel enough for him." Vea looked up. "You have no idea how close you were to fighting me instead of fighting with me."

Roran tried to make sense of her words but couldn't. He watched her out of the corner of his eyes. As he opened his mouth, Alia spoke.

Roran, you do not understand and she does not wish to enlighten you. No amount of prodding could change her mind.

He nodded and Alia closed her eyes again, returning to her former position, resting. "Does Nasuada know your past, why you fight?"

"No."

He felt another wave of doubt about his partner rise in him. How could Nasuada ask him to trust her when she did not even know reasons why he should?

Vea seemed to understand. "Angela knows." She said. He looked over and saw her watching him. "Eragon and Arya know also as well as their dragons."

"If they know I suppose it's alright." He said unsurely.

She ignored him. Then she halted her horse and stared. "Is that it?"

Roran shielded his eyes from the sun with an upheld hand and squinted. Barely visible, on the horizon, was the outline of walls. "Tilgrim." He affirmed. They rode closer, not caring for the element of surprise as they knew they were already spotted by a scout they had seen fleeing toward Tilgrim.

Suddenly Roran stopped his men and called in the leaders. "We'll wait here for the night and attack with the dawn. I've been informed that the southern portion of the city has weaker walls then the rest, and while we can assume that there will be more men there to make up for it, we will likely need to smash our way into the city to take control."

Vea stood. "Carn, you, I , and Roran are all spellcasters and will need to work closely together. We will be in the front and attempt to bring down the walls after our siege weapons have had a shot at them."

A man stood and they turned to look at them. "Tilgrim is known for the catapults they keep on the walls to fight off invaders. They could wreak destruction on our men."

Alia leapt to Roran's lap and meowed quietly, calling his attention to her. Leave their catapults to us. Thitan and I can take care of them while everyone sleep. Humans are so oblivious to werecats' existence that they will think nothing of us but a large alley cat.

Roran moved his hand to scratch her ears, smiling as she began to purr loudly. "Are you sure?"

Easy. She answered, nudging away his hand. We will go when all is dark.

He turned to the group watching him. "The werecats have volunteered to remove the catapults."

One of the men snorted in disbelief. "The werecats? Can't trust them to do anything. Worse than the Urgals. They're beasts."

Alia stood, her claws tightening, cutting into Roran's skin as she hissed threateningly at the man. Her fur was standing up on end and she looked ready to kill. Before it got out of hand, Roran stepped in.

"Take it back and apologize to her." Roran ordered the man. The man walked closer and Roran could smell the mead on his breath. He cursed quietly.

"I will not apologize to… to that. The Varden was bad enough to start with, joining with the dwarves, and the elves were even worse. But Urgals and werecats?" The man spat. "I wonder why I still fight for them."

Alia tensed and Roran knew she was about to spring. Her eyes were fixed on his neck, teeth bared in anticipation. As he felt her prepare to spring, Roran did the only thing he could to stop her from attacking but keeping her anger from him. He stood. Startled, the werecat leapt to the ground to land on her feet. She glanced up at Roran in annoyance.

"Insubordination." Roran growled. "Hadran, you are deprived of your position and will face judgment upon returning to the Varden." He gestured to Carn, one of the only men he knew personally and could be sure of their loyalty. "Find rope and have him bound. There is no way we can risk him betraying us."

"Stronghammer, he is drunk." One of the men protested quietly.

"Yes, something a leader cannot afford." Roran agreed. "And I've found that being drunk makes one more prone to state their true thoughts without the inhibition that a sober man would have." Carn returned and forced the man to his knees, binding him tightly and having two men he brought with carry him back away.

Roran looked at the others. "Does anyone else wish to voice a complaint against the werecats?"

There were a variety of negative responses coming from the group and Roran nodded, satisfied. He sat down and Alia leapt back onto his lap, still miffed at the man's treatment of her. Roran stroked her fur gently, trying to calm the werecat.

"Alia, it's been taken care of." He spoke softly.

She turned her yellow-gold eyes onto him and then curled into a ball. You should have let me attack him. I wasn't going to kill, only wound.

He shook his head at her mentality. "And that would have helped how?"

And this did? At least I could have had revenge. She growled quietly, closing her eyes, but by now he was not fooled by her pretense of sleeping. You should have let me.

"Perhaps I should have." He mused before turning the waiting men. "Now. We have more planning to do than before as Haldran's men will now have to be split among the rest of us and the strategy must be revised." Roran sighed, wishing not for the first time that he had never heard of Galbatorix nor picked up a hammer.

They continued planning late into the night until the werecats slunk off toward the city to begin the attack.

If anyone was wondering, I am not neglecting my other fic. I read the first half of Inheritance and found a lot of random info I need to sort into my story and find places for it. A big thanks to CP for making Angela the biggest MarySue in the history of novels. Yeah.

Please leave a review and tell me what you thought of this chapter. Thanks.