Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to daydreamin' angel, for making me laugh with the comment about the Varden being like High School. Hearts to you, KittenofShadows

Arya sat silently, watching Rune with sharp eyes. She played with the dagger in her hands, balancing its tip on her finger. There was something peculiar about that girl. It was as if Arya had seen her before, though she knew that she hadn't.

Arya did know one thing, however—sometimes it took a princess to know one.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

Rune sat with Angela, helping her twist the herbs into braids to save for later. She was deep in thought, about something she had heard Nasuada talk about. After Lady Nasuada had told them they could be accepted into the Varden—if they began an apprenticeship that would help the common good—she had pulled Eragon aside. Rune had barely heard the question she had asked, but it haunted her.

What is she?

Rune wasn't sure. What was she? Galbatorix was a Rider. Lycona was an elf. What did that make Rune? She had never thought about it before.

Did it really matter what she was?

Apparently so.

Rune chewed on her lip. Perhaps Angela would know.

"Angela?"

"Hmm?"

"What am I?"

Angela raised her eyebrows at the question. "You're a Rune. A person. A soul, a being, a consciousness. A mind and a will and a heart." She put the herbs aside. "Anything else you'd like to ask?"

Rune sighed, shaking her head. "No Angela, that's it."

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Rune approached the elf princess quietly. It hadn't taken long to find her, but now that she had Rune wasn't sure exactly how to ask. She had met Arya a few days ago, when she had moved out of Eragon's chambers and into her own. In the time since Arya had stopped to talk to her a few times, but Rune still wasn't sure they could be considered 'friends'.

Arya was the perfect picture of what a princess should be like. She was unnervingly calm, composed, never flustered. She was useful, capable, dependant on herself. Rune wasn't sure she could ever be like that.

"Arya?" she asked tentatively. "May I ask you something?"

She didn't look up from the dagger she was sharpening. "You may. Whether I answer may depend on the question itself."

"I'm wondering. You're wise, so maybe you can help me."

"I'll do my best," Arya said softly.

"My question is this: What am I?"

Arya blinked. "I don't pretend to know what you mean."

Rune looked away. "Well, you're an elf. Saphira is a dragon and Solembum, he's a werecat. What about me?"

"I suppose it would matter on your dam and sire," Arya said, continuing to sharpen her dagger.

Rune nodded. "Well, my mother was an elf. But I'm not. And I'm not a…" she trailed off.

"I've known since a few days ago," Arya said, meeting her eyes for the first time. "Or at least suspected. It seems we share a rank, little princess."

Little princess…Rune had never been called that before. Murtagh had told her she was a princess, but had never used her title. She nodded. "It seems so, Arya svit-kona. May I ask another question?"

"You may."

"What's your mother's name?"

"My mother is Queen Islanzadí of Ellesméra."

Rune's mouth fell open. She had heard that name before. In Murtagh's story. About her own mother, Lycone.

Rune's heart was beating faster. "Did…she…Queen Islanzadí, I mean, did she have…a sister?"

"Not that I know of."

"Then, have you ever heard the name Lycona?"

Arya stiffened. "Where did you hear that name?" she demanded. Her voice was tight.

"It…it was my mother's name."

Arya was silent for a moment. "…This I did not foresee."

Rune was bursting with questions, but she could tell Arya wasn't ready to answer them. She sat on the edge of her chair, her back rigid. Her knuckles were white from clenching the dagger. After about a quarter of an hour, the princess spoke.

"Lycona was an elf maiden who lived in Ellesméra, quite some time ago. She knew my mother, but they had never gotten along. From the time they were children, it seemed as though everything Islanzadí had, Lycona found a way to obtain. She was sneaky and spiteful, jealous of my mother's position."

Rune frowned. She had always wanted to think of her mother as gentle, kind. Surely she wasn't as evil as Galbatoriz himself?

"When King Evandar, my sire, took Islanzadí as his mate, Lycona grew more envious as ever. In the end, she managed to seduce Evandar, and became his second mate."

"I didn't know elves could have two mates," Rune commented.

"It's not forbidden, but frowned upon, as usually such a union ends in heartbreak on the part of mate rejected," Arya explained. "This was true of my mother. She fell into deep despair, seeing her beloved Evandar shrug her off for another woman."

"What happened?" Rune asked, almost forgetting the story was real.

"Evandar saw that his passion for Lycona hurt Islanzadí. Not wishing to pain his queen, he hardened his heart to Lycona, banishing her from Ellesméra. She knew that because of this disgrace, she would never again be welcome in elf cities. So she packed her things, preparing to leave. But she realized that there was one thing left for her to do."

Arya set down the dagger, dusting off her hands. "Lycona went to Islanzadí. Kneeling before her queen, she apologized, begging forgiveness for the wrongs she had committed towards her. In that moment, all ill blood between the women disappeared, because Lycona had proved herself capable of humility."

Rune nodded.

"From that day forward, Lycona remained as part of Islanzadí's council, as well as one of her closest companions. They kept no secrets from one another. Lycona served the queen as a spy, an ambassador, anything Islanzadí needed that she could trust to no one else."

Arya cleared her throat, swallowing. Her voice was constricted again. "She went missing fifteen years ago. Islanzadí ordered the strongest magic users to attempt to scry her, but no efforts of theirs succeeded. She was assumed dead. My mother nearly went crazy with grief. A week long festival was held to honor Lycona's courage and loyalty. The queen still has a fairth of her hung in her personal chambers."

Rune looked at the ground, then placed her hand over Arya's. "Then we are not only of one rank, but of one blood. Atra nosu waíse fricäya."

Arya gave Rune a small smile, the first Rune had seen cross her face. "Yes. Atra nosu."

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter was a little shorter than the others have been lately, but this seemed like a good place to end it. Murtagh will be reentering Rune's life soon as well, so keep a lookout for him. I wanted to point out also that I'm still accepting character profiles, and that you can send in as many as you want. Hearts to all, KittenofShadows

Ancient Language:

Atra nosu waíse fricäya: Let us be friends

Atra nosu: let us