Sorry for the long wait but this week has just been so tiring. It's so hard to balance everything with sleep. I just wished there was like 36 hours in a day and not just 24 maybe I won't be like a walking zombie all the time. But there's also a reason for the long wait on this chapter and that was because in this chapter there is a LEMON! (yes, I said it.) And I'm not used to writing such intimate scenes that will remain close to Arya's character. But I gave it a shot. So I hope you'll enjoy it.

He glared at the runes again, frowning as he tried to find a way out of the rather complicated situation he was in at the moment. He stared at Angela who sat across from him, her lips forming a smirk as if she knew exactly what was going on through his mind. He had turned away from her for a mere second and now he was losing in their game. "Are you going to make a move yet?" Angela asked with a grin.

His frown deepened. If only Arya or Saphira was here, he thought. They would be able to help him but King Orrin and Nasuada had required their presence at their tent. Because of that, he was unable to see them for most of the day which especially annoyed him. Tomorrow Roran was going to be married and that made Murtagh rather busy as he went to help their cousin prepare for the wedding and his mother was resting from the stress of the last few days.

And he had grown rather restless from the lack of company the entire day until the herbalist had decided to waltz in and offer him some of her time. Now, he wasn't sure whether or not he regretted accepting it. After a moment, he sat back folding his arms across his chest, "Let us call it a draw for the moment."

"What?" Angela said outraged at his lack of motivation to make another move in their game. "A draw? This certainly is not a draw!"

"Well, I refuse to make another move for the moment," said Eragon with a slight smile. "Maybe another time, besides I dislike this game of runes."

She stared at him with a thin lipped expression before tossing her curly hair over her shoulder in an indignant display. "Very well then, another time," with that she reached down and in a swift motion swept the runes into a velvet pouch. She was very annoyed, Eragon thought as he stared at her.

That was when he felt it, a tinge of growing irritation that was not his. Throughout the entire day, he'd felt from Saphira and Arya emotions that bordered the same line. Saphira was annoyed and he could tell that if King Orrin and Nasuada didn't stop in what they were doing, she might snap at them. Arya on the other hand was beyond irritated and he could feel her restless anger coming from within him. Eragon pursed his lips, trying not to laugh outright at the feelings he felt from the two of them.

"You look like a buffoon," he glanced up at Angela who was observing him with a curious expression.

"Pardon?" Eragon asked pretending not to hear her.

"Oh, please," she rolled her eyes before reaching over the table to poke him in the chest. "How is your elf feeling?"

"Irritated."

"As she should be," Angela bent down and drew out another pouch. He glanced at it wary. Since he had awakened yesterday, whole and healed, Angela had been forcing tonic after tonic in his throat. Nearly choking him alive. "I'm afraid that it seems to irritate her to be in such company, especially Orrin who seems intent on stripping all of her secrets off of her."

"She won't fall to him easily," Eragon said without a doubt.

Angela nodded opening to pouch to pour out something that he had only seen once. It was the dragon knucklebones that she had used to tell his fortune back in Tronjheim. Had it truly been so long ago? Momentarily forgetting Arya's irritation, he grew cautious and curious. "What do you need them for?" Eragon asked.

"To tell your fortune of course," she said with raised brows.

He frowned. "But you've already told me mine."

"I know that," she said, "Just humor me, Shadeslayer."

Not knowing what she was going to gain from telling his fortune yet again, Eragon rubbed his hands together lightly. He had heard his fortune and had grown to accept it. But what will hearing it again do for him? After a moment he shrugged, "Then let us begin."

Growing serious, she brought up the bones in her hands and tossed them onto the surface of the small table, crying the same words as before. As he watched the bones fall, he felt surprised when they didn't clump together into the pile like it did before but had rather loosened into distinguishable symbols. He leaned forward as did Angela to take a look at the array of symbols on the bones. The herbalist's expression was one of pure curiosity as she studied the bones. "Of course, of course," she murmured to herself oblivious to his presence. "How curious…"

Eragon stared at her, waiting for her to divine her mutterings. After a moment she straightened to smile at him. "Your future is still a confused mess but not like before," she said as she pointed to the bones. "You've already made irreversible decisions in your life and that has therefore affected your future as you can clearly see."

He nodded, "Will you care to explain?"

Angela nodded and with her finger pointed to a bone that he had already seen, "This has not changed, you will still live a long life Eragon," he'd expected as much. Her finger moved onward to a bone that he had found pleasantly attractive. "Ah, now this has changed."

The first time Angela had read his fortune to him, there was a symbol of a crescent moon and overlaying it was beautiful red rose. Now, however, the moon was a full moon and the red rose had blossomed into a beautiful and mature flower. "A powerful romance in your life, for now and ever," she smiled slyly, "An eternal love as seen by the fullness of the moon. I must say that this bit is as true as ever seeing that you and Arya are so intimately intertwined."

He couldn't help but smile at her words. That was true beyond all accounts.

She moved on from the bone to another that laid in the pile. "This one has also changed," the sailing ship that he had come across before was now a docking ship. He remembered her words rather clearly from before when she had spoken to him about it. You will forever leave, Alagaesia."Be at ease, Eragon, this docking ship means that you will leave Alagaesia but this land will forever be your home and no matter how many times you venture forth from it, you will always return to grace this ancient land with your presence."

To say that he was relieved was beyond consideration, the coldness of her words the first time she had spoken of his departure had slowly eased away from his mind, leaving him lighter than before. For the next few moments, she had gone to decipher the few bones that weren't confused within the pile. Which wasn't many, after she'd packed up her bones, Eragon asked the question on his mind, already having an inkling of her answer.

"Why has my fortune changed?" Eragon asked, serious. "Even though it was only small distinctions, I'd always thought that no matter what one does the future will always be cemented."

Angela smiled mysteriously at him. "Ah, listen to your question carefully before you ask it, Shadeslayer. You asked why your future has changed? Then I shall tell you. It hasn't," he frowned staring at her.

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said," she tucked away the pouch of knucklebones. "Your future has become entwined with another's fortune. Would you like to guess who?" at the expression of understanding on Eragon's face, Angela continued unperturbed. "Because Arya's soul has become part of your own, her fortune also becomes a part of yours because essentially you two are both tied together though not physically but spiritually."

"It makes sense," Eragon murmured.

"There's also another alternative," Angela said before he could contemplate the information more. "With your entire soul reunited, it had an effect on your readings because before you weren't really you."

"That's also viable."

"Either way, you can believe what you will but know this, Eragon: you are now truly Eragon Shadeslayer."

He smiled at her, grateful for her words. Glancing outside of the small hole in his tent, he was surprised to find that it was already night. Voicing his thoughts, Eragon stood to see the herbalist out. Once outside, Angela turned to him with a smirk. "Might I suggest visiting your elf, I'm quite positive her meeting did not go so well."

"I shall take you up on the advice," said Eragon turning to walk fifteen yards to his left where Arya's tent stood. Walking up to it, he knocked lightly on the post alerting her to his presence even though he knew she probably heard his approach. He wasn't exactly stealthy. He still felt her irritation but there was a slight tinge of pleasure that bordered the strong emotion.

"Come in," her voice floated over to him.

Drawing the flap back, he entered her tent raising his brow slightly when he didn't immediately see her. "Arya?" There was a rustle of movement towards his left and he turned his head in time to a sight that made his heart violently stutter.

She wasn't wearing her usual leather but instead a rather thin white towel was wrapped around her body. Her hair was damp and hung in clumps down her back and her skin, he saw, was glistening. His heart gave another heart wrenching stutter at her honey milk skin, feeling a flush and need wash over his body. Arya's pleasure seemed to increase. Coughing slightly, he moved forward to sit on a stool by her low table that held her scrolls and texts.

"Did I interrupt you?" Eragon asked his voice slightly strained. The situation seemed so intimate and yet again, so familiar.

She shook her head, moving to sit down on her cot one hand still clutching at her towel. "I just bathed," her eyes slightly narrowed and he felt her irritation peak again. "King Orrin's chemicals are rather formidable."

He raised a brow.

She lifted a white cloth that was stained gray, "It took me quite a while to rub it from my skin."

"What is it?" he stood and made his way over to her, clutching the gray stained cloth in his hand. The smell of the chemical was faint due to the fact that it was diluted with water but he had a sneaking suspicion that it was a type of oil. Studying it for a second longer, he made the mistake of glancing down at Arya dressed as she was and their close proximity was not helping either.

Reaching down to take a strand of her damp hair between his fingers, he felt a warm heat suffuse his body. "A rather foul concoction of oil and freesia perfume," said Arya as she stared up at him with large dark eyes, so dark they were almost black.

"Maybe he was trying for a rather explosive mixture," Eragon said as he bent down slightly his head growing heady with her scent.

"Maybe," she smiled up at him and that was when he felt it from her, a flash of desire. "How was your time with Angela? It felt like you were very amused."

ALRIGHT! THOSE WHO DO NOT WANT TO READ A LEMON SKIP TO THE END! WARNING! WARNING!

"That's because I was," he bent closer to her as she titled her head upwards in anticipation of his action. "She can be quite amusing at times," finally his lips were on hers kissing her for the first time that day and again, he felt his passion for her become inflamed to new heights. All the angst the past weeks had made the lust and want build up to such an insurmountable amount that he found it impossible to reign in. Arya's own lust was adding fuel to the fire raging within him and he found that it was suddenly too hard to breathe correctly. There was such a strong need to devour her that it wasn't enough anymore.

Eragon slightly pushed against her and the two of them went sprawling onto her cot in a tangle of limbs and labored breathing from the passionate kissing. Her hand gripping her towel had run up to bury itself in his mess of hair. His own hands had a mind of their own as they ran from her bare arms down to her side, her hips and back again. Her fingers started moving of their own violation, he felt them trace a path across his back and up under his shirt. She broke the kiss, her eyes dark and her lips swollen as she stared up at him tugging at his shirt with her fingers.

Not denying her he grabbed it and tugged it over his head throwing it to the side. And for a moment he was glad that his chest had healed fully this morning so he could take off his bandages. Feeling a slight shiver run down his body at the intensity of her stare he bent down again to capture her lips into a kiss that could be called ferocious. Her response nearly made him implode. How was it possible that she could invoke such emotions in him? It was just too much.

After a moment of battling for dominance, he pulled away and began to trail kisses down her neck stopping short at her shoulder taking in the lining of her towel. Almost immediately his blood boiled at the thought of the underlying skin. His hand was resting on her hip clutching at the towel and he had the strongest urge to just pull it from her body. Before he could let the idea come together in his mind, Arya gave a tug on his hair pulling him back up to meet her searching lips which were curved into a rather seductive smile. His hand pulled lightly on her towel.

Within the haze of desire, lust, and love that was swirling within him he felt the approval from her meek though it was against the strength of his other emotions. Slowly, very slowly, he pulled the white cloth from her body letting it flutter to the ground softly. Pulling back to take her in, Eragon felt his heart stutter again. She was beautiful. Her skin was an even milky honey, damp though it was from her bath. Her body was toned, her stomach flat, her breasts were round and perfect. Everything about her was perfection; she was the epitome of beauty. His eyes traveled lower knowing that she was laying perfectly still underneath his stare as if waiting for him. Her body did not have on strand of hair on it as he'd expected. Letting his hand glide up her bare leg, he rested it lightly on her inner thigh watching her shift slightly for him. Inside him he felt as if a door was thrown open and a wild hunger for Arya had consumed every other thought in his body and that was when he felt it, her slight insecurity at his lack of words.

Catching her eyes with his he slowly bent down to kiss the flat plane of her stomach, "You're much more beautiful than I am, Arya," he murmured against her skin.

Before she could open her mouth to speak he rose back up to kiss her effectively stopping the words. Her arms came up to wrap themselves about his neck and pull him flush against her. His eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head as he felt her heated skin come in contact with his, her chest rubbing against him, her nipples hard and erect. He pushed against her and he felt her gasp slightly when his own hardness brushed against her leg. Worried that he had alarmed her, he made to put some distance between them but her leg moved and her ankle was soon locked around his own keeping him in place.

To say that Eragon was inexperienced was an understatement; he did not know how to pleasure a woman much less Arya. In his youth, he had heard countless tales told by one soldier to another about their sexual experiences and at that moment he could have cared less for such stories. But now he was internally glad that his hearing was so acute he was able to pick up on a few pointers. His desire to see Arya writhe and squirm from pleasure was as strong as his desire to touch and taste every inch of her that he could. He wanted to see her rise to a high that she'd never been to before and he wanted to take her there, Eragon vowed to himself.

His right hand was tangled in her ebony tresses while his left was resting on her hip, deciding to follow instinct and be guided by Arya's emotions; he reached up to cup her breast. Her reaction was immediate as a low moan escaped her, almost a purr. Gaining confidence, he gently messaged her through his hand marveling at the soft feel of her skin against his calloused palms and the hardness of her nipple. "Eragon," his name escaped her lips in a breathy sigh.

Inside of him he felt her increasing pleasure but also her increasing want. Desiring to fulfill that want, he broke away from her feeling his member throb at the small whimper that came from her. It was music to his ears, the sounds that she made. Without warning, Eragon bent his head as he removed his hand from her breast before lavishing his mouth on it. Another moan escaped her as she arched her back off of the cot pushing her chest against him. Guided by her growing pleasure, he licked, bit, and tasted her enjoying her pleasure as much as she did. And when his mouth closed entirely around her nipple he felt her emotions explode within him.

He bit down a lightly earning a small cry from her before he moved to her other breast that he'd neglected, repeating the same process until he had her panting beneath him for want. When she couldn't take it anymore, Arya pulled him back up to kiss him again, her lips searing with an ardent fervor as if she wanted to devour him as much as he wanted to devour her.

He felt her left hand scratch his scalp lightly, the feeling making him groan, a guttural sound escaping from him. Her free hand had gone from tracing the skin of his chest before gliding downwards. He groaned again when he felt her fingers trace the rigid outline of his arousal. He reached down to grab her hand moving it away despite her gasp of protest. It was his turn to touch her and he wasn't done yet.

There was one thing that he remembered distinctively through every story. He felt Arya's surprise as her body stiffened beneath him when his fingers lightly stroked her between her legs. He stilled his hand, raising his head from hers to glance down at her. Her eyes were wild and unfocused, her swollen lips parted, her cheeks flushed but it was the most beautiful and erotic image of Arya that at the moment he swore to never forget. "Should I stop?" Eragon asked his voice thick.

She shook her head, "I was just surprised," she closed her eyes as Eragon tentatively brushed his fingers against her again. This time her hips bucked against his hand. "It feels…so good."

He was ready to die from the feel of her, the sight of her, and the sound of her. Bending down he buried his head in her chest knowing that his next action was going to surprise her as well. Letting his fingers stroke her, he felt his arousal ache at the wetness between her legs. She was just as aroused as he was, maybe even more so. He smoothed the wetness against her feeling her hips buck again into his hand. Finding her folds, he gently teased her opening causing her to moan, her chest slightly vibrating from the sound. The pleasure he felt from her was building up and he knew that she wanted release. Eragon was not going to deny her anything.

She gasped and her hands came up to grab him. One digging itself into his hair while the other gripped his shoulders. "Oh!"

He tried to say something but his lips refused to form words. He was dying from the pleasure of touching her, of having his finger inside her. He felt her walls clamping down on him, clenching and relaxing before clenching again. She was so hot and wet, he groaned again. Pulling his finger out from her, he added another finger as he pushed back in stretching her. Then he added a third, testing her barriers as she shifted underneath him, pushing against his hand.

"Eragon," this time it came out as a keen, a plead for him.

He pulled back his hand and slammed into her, creating a steady rhythm as his fingers pumped in and out of her. Her own hips bucked against his hand, her wetness slicking him. As he used his fingers to pleasure her, he felt his own need insistently growing as her small cries began to grow from the building pressure. He pushed the though aside, he wanted to see her come. He wanted to see her face as she reached the release that she sought, to see her lose utter and absolute control of herself. Kissing her breasts one last time, he raised his head to look at her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips were parted and a look of flushed pleasure was radiating from her.

He kissed her temple, before pulling back, "Arya," Eragon murmured willing her to look at him as his hand continued its ministration.

She did, her eyelids lifting to reveal dark, smoldering emerald green eyes. He stared at her, getting himself lost in an Arya that he'd rarely seen. She seemed so close to losing control of herself unlike her usual guarded persona. Her lips parted as another small cry escaped her. She was close to release, he could feel it. The wire was about ready to snap. As his fingers plunged into her depths again, his thumb searched for the nub that he knew was there and when he found it, he pressed down on the sensitive skin. Hard. It was enough.

The wire that was pulled taut snapped.

Her eyes grew wide and her lips parted as a cry escaped her. Her cheeks were flush and he saw her face glistening with sweat as her body writhed and flailed underneath him. Her eyes grew wild and he saw as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her until her body was gently humming underneath him. His hand which was coated with her sweet release slipped out from her with ease. Knowing that she was watching him he brought it up to his nose and sniffed her womanly scent taking pleasure in the fact that it was him who had brought her to such a state. He licked the warm liquid from his hand, distinctly tasting her, a taste he found consuming.

Within him, he felt her sated beyond anything else and a slow drowsiness seeping into her. Her arms which had come to rest about his neck pulled at him, her eyes darting to the tent in his breeches where his arousal was, "Eragon…"

"Shh…" he murmured against her lips as he kissed her. "Sleep, Arya. I'll be here when you wake."

Her dark eyes stared up at him and he could see the weariness in her as she nodded a smile on her lips. Throwing off his boots, he lifted the sheets tucking her in underneath before coming up to embrace her to his back, earning a contented sigh from her. "I love you, Arya," he murmured.

She nodded against his chest a small sound escaping her before she drifted off to sleep entirely. As she did, her stared at her willing for his body to calm down. It took a moment but he felt his arousal slowly ebb away replaced with a satisfaction in what he had accomplished. Letting his hand glide up and down her bare arm, he replayed Arya coming. Never before had he seen such an expression on her more less an emotion like that. And it was then with her sleeping soundly in his arms, worn from the day's events did he vow to make her come again.

Thinking back onto the moment he entered her tent he grinned to himself. Initially he hadn't thought of anything of that sort. Far from it actually, he had just wanted to see her before he went to sleep but their emotions had gotten out of hand and she had allowed him to see to it to pleasure her in more than one way.

With that thought in his mind, he brushed his lips lightly against her shoulder before letting sleep take him as well, images of her flashing in and out of his dreams. Never before had he felt such a strong feeling from her. It was overpowering.

So that is my treat to you all for waiting diligently for the next update. And for the general audience I tried to keep a warning ahead of the sexual scenes so you can known ahead of time. Tell me how you feel about this chapter, particularly the lemone, I'm just so not used to writing like that. So I'm a little iffy about adding anymore in until I can get a good feel of it. Anyways, I'll see you all next chapter! (Once I get a good 9 hours worth of sleep in one night!) Don't forget to review! :)