Here's the last chapter...read the other disclaimers cause im lazy today. Thanks to all who've reviewed, and if i get some more i might do another Amaka fic!

Enjoy...

Weeks later, after the Battle of the Burning Plains…

Eragon stood outside his tent, his eyes pressed to the sky. Roran was asleep now, satisfied in the fact that he would soon be going to rescue his love. The younger man glanced over his shoulder, his heightened senses registering the steady breathing of his cousin as he dreamed in something like peace. Eragon turned his face back to the sky; there was no peace for him now.

He reached into his pocket for a piece of jerky. Instead of closing around the salted meat, his fingers brushed against something cold and hard. Frowning, he dug it out and held it up. It was a golden amulet, in the shape of hawk's claw. He fingered it gently, running his thumb along the edge. He drew back with a hiss of pain; a red bead of blood bubbled along the pad of his thumb. It was very sharp. He chuckled morosely, healing himself with a thought.

He had grown since his encounter with Amaka Yannickosi. After her disappearance, the elven community had quickly returned to its normal life, as though nothing had ever happened. Eragon had marveled at this at first, but accepted it as yet another paradox. His lessons with Oromis had resumed, and life had gone on. The halfelf was gone. There was nothing else to it.

Or so he had thought, until he had stumbled on Arya a day or so ago, clutching a worn farith in her smooth hands. Eragon had only glimpsed the surface, but the form of a red-headed elfmaid was unmistakable. He had retreated before words could be exchanged, though he was sure she had sensed his presence.

Something had happened between the halfelf and the princess, he was sure of it. But the momentous events of the past few days had blown the incident from his mind…until now. He held the claw up to the flickering light of the torches, watching his reflection in the smooth surface. A dark shape detached itself from the shadows of the tent, reflected on the amulet. He whirled around, hand straying to his empty scabbard.

"Please, sit," whispered the shape, a pale hand resting on his shoulder before he could react. The hard grip forced him to his knees, gasping. He clutched the hand, scratching at it in a vain attempt to liberate his arm. A chuckle bubbled from the depths of the wine-dark cloak, and the figure released him. A second hand protruded from the cloak, throwing back the hood. Flaming curls tumbled onto her shoulders, her green eyes sparkling in the wavering torchlight. A laughing smile stretched across her face, and she brushed the tip of a long, thing stiletto across his cheek.

"Greetings, Morzanson," Amaka Yannickosi whispered, stepping back and sheathing her knife. Eragon leapt to his feet, growling and lunging forward. She danced easily out of his way, spry as a new spring deer. Her armor flashed beneath the open cloak as they circled each other, their eyes never leaving the other's face.

"Are you here to finish the job you started, then?" Eragon snarled. "Murtagh wasnever your target…It was me!"

"Clever little Shadeslayer, aren't you?" she said, smirking. "But, no, I am under a different lord's pay nowadays. Yours, in fact. And an ample sum, too, I might add. General's wages are more impressive than you'd imagine." She stopped, sitting heavily before the fire in front of the tent. She crossed her booted feet atop another of the logs that served as crude chairs, her emerald eyes never leaving the furious Rider. "But I feel we have some unfinished business."

Eragon sat across fromher warily. All of his elvish senses screamed at him to leave, to get out while he still could; but he ignored them, drawing his legs up beneath him. He was silent for a moment, then raised his eyes to her. "The dragon Kirman?"

"Aye," she said, waving her hands at the flame. A dragon the color of dried blood erupted from it, rearing in the chill night air. "It was he and his rider who attacked me, Shadeslayer, not the other way 'round. The beginnings of the Forsworn, in fact." She sighed. "The elves, of course, did not want to believe that a Rider would become twisted the way Galbatorix had; it didn't fit their ideals. Besides, it wasn't until almost a decade later that the Forsworn revealed themselves, and by then, I was already banished." She waved her fingers again and the picture in the fire changed to a figure riding rapidly across the snow, pursued by the massive dragon. "The Rider was killed, the dragon wounded and crazed." The picture in the flame changed to one of chaos, two bloody figures dueling in a field of snow. The dragon reared up, and the smaller figure leapt forward, driving a pike deep into its neck. The dragon roared and thrashed, breathing fire on the figure that screamed and fell into the snow. The dragon howled a final time before crashing to earth, silent forever. The figure was still for a moment, then stood, her clothes charred and falling to pieces. The figure, Amaka, pulled the pike from the dragon's body with a horrible squelch and the picture vanished. "Do you under stand now?"

He sighed, his anger draining from him as the air rushed from his lungs. "Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered, gazing into the dying embers of the campfire.

She chuckled. "You never asked, Shadeslayer."

"Eragon. My name is Eragon."

He looked up to find her watching him, unchanged from the wild young woman the elves had captured so long ago. Her eyes bored into him now, as they had then, but this time his gaze did not waver. She smiled.

"Aye." She clapped her hand on his shoulder. "Now you understand, don't you?"

He nodded, and put his hand on top of hers. Her smile widened, and she stood. He looked up in surprise, then scrambled to his own feet. She laughed; not the cold, heartless laugh of a prisoner but the pleasant, mirthful laugh of happiness. She gripped his shoulders gently. "Don't tell the Princess I've been around, alright? It's a little early, yet," she said quietly, a sad smile covering the laughter.

"What happened between you two?" he asked.

"Long ago, we were friends…don't worry your pretty little head about it." She chuckled, ruffling his hair. She turned to leave, and he called out, extending the necklace to her. She looked at it, then smiled. "You keep it. You need all the help you can get." She turned again, but paused, returning to him. Her foresty eyes sparkled in the crackling flame as she gazed at him. Unexpectedly, she swept him into a hug. Even beneath her armor he could feel her body up against him and he shivered. He returned the hug impulsively, burying his head in her long hair.

"Lifeishell for people like you, Morzanson," she said softly. She leaned forward and kissed him, her lips lingering on his for just a moment to short. He blushed, embarrassed by the fact that he quite enjoyed it, and she laughed again. "But know, at least, that you aren't the only one." She pulled away, straightening her sword belt and giving him an exaggerated salute. She began to melt into the chill night air.

"Until we meet again, Eragon."

Hereturned the smile,fingering his tingling lips."Indeed."

alrighty! so that's all for now!

Laura--thanks, i know, my grammar sucks.

Annie--thanks, i know my grammar sucks. did this chapter answer your question?

To all my freeloading readers...hope you enjoyed it. be sure to check out all my other fics, etc etc.

Reinnos, signing off...

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