Súndavar sat, his head in his hands. I didn't ask for this.

With every beat of his heart, it felt as if he died a little more. As if he was giving up himself, everything he stood for. Súndavar knew it was all a lie. He would never be Shur'tugal, strong and capable and devoted like Eragon. He wasn't like that.

Súndavar felt self pity wash over him. They didn't understand. Did they think he wanted this? Did they think that this is how he would have chosen to live his life?

No, Súndavar knew that no one could understand. Not Eragon, not Arya or Captain Shay or Angela. No one could see through his disguise, the shell he wore by day to keep himself from losing it completely.

Súndavar slipped the dagger out from under his pillow. It was a simple weapon, with no embellishments or frills, but it was well crafted. It had ended the life of a man he hated, and for that he owed it.

Rune didn't know he had it. It had been hers, before she had made herself a murderer—just to save him, a boy she hadn't even known at the time. She hadn't seen him slip the dagger from the dead man's gut, hadn't seen him kick the fallen body in a bitter goodbye. If she had, would she have cared for him?

What about Lexia? If she had been there, would she have thought him less than human? Súndavar remembered the way her fingers had felt so smooth and cool against his face. He wished he could have drawn her in, let her melt into his arms. He could be her eyes, and she could fill his heart.

Súndavar shook the thoughts from his head. You made a promise, he reminded himself. He loved Rune.

But Rune wasn't here. Rune was dead, or something close to it. Eragon hadn't managed to awaken her, and with each passing day Súndavar longed for her more. If only he could just end it…

Those thoughts made Súndavar feel sick. He looked at the dagger, at its deadly sharp blade, and imagined the bittersweet relief it could bring. He grabbed it, positioning it above his wrist experimentally.

Súndavar stared at it. Could he do it? Could he give up the chance of seeing Rune again? Could he give up Slate? Lexia? Shay?

Súndavar slid the dagger back under the pillow. His stomach twisted when he thought of what he had been about to do.

Rune…his heart cried. Rune would have made the feelings go away. She would have touched his chest in that gentle way of hers, moving a single finger up and down his scar.

He imagined how her body would feel, tucked up next to his, warm and soft. Her hair would smell like fresh rain, her skin feel like silk. She had a princess's skin, unscarred and smooth.

Súndavar shook his head. No matter how much he wanted to, Súndavar knew he couldn't end it here and now. Because an oblivious eternity without Rune was unthinkable. Worse than death itself, was what death would bring.

That wasn't the only reason, and Súndavar knew it. He hated himself for it, but he knew it all the same.

He was scared.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Lady Nasuada paced back and forth restlessly. There was so much to do…she ran through a list in her mind. Orrin was still grumping about Rune being the princess he was to marry. A month later, and he still hadn't let go. It was cute, in an annoying way.

Nasuada stopped pacing abruptly. What? she asked herself. Had she just thought something King Orrin did was cute?

She had to admit, she was growing rather fond of the young king. But cute was not a word to describe him. He had been treating her more as an equal each day, instead of a child to be pushed around.

Handsome? Yes. Kind? Yes. But cute?

Nasuada rubbed her temple. She had to get more sleep…fatigue was making her think strange things.

King Orrin entered the room without knocking, smiling at her. Nasuada felt his eyes on her for just a bit longer than they had to be.

"I still don't have a solution to this problem," Orrin griped. "I promised the people a queen. They still want one. But Rune is asleep, and I'm not sure I'd like to marry the girl even if she wasn't…"

Nasuada laughed. "The people can live without a queen for a while. Perhaps you should find yourself a hobby less dangerous than laboratory work. A safe hobby would do you good."

"And you as well, Nasuada," Orrin answered. He focused on her face for a moment. "You seem very preoccupied. Have I bored you? Or is your mind simply on other matters?"

"Hmm?" she asked, blinking. "Oh, I'm sorry Orrin. It's just…there's a lot going on. Súndavar is a Rider now, and as much as I'd like to keep him here, there's his training that has to be attended to. That means sending him to Ellesméra."

Orrin read something in her eyes. "You don't seem to trust him."

"I don't," Nasuada admitted. "Since Rune's…since the occurrences in the tunnel, anyway, he's been changing. One of his parents is a Shade, which makes him increasingly unstable. I'm not sure if I can send him to Ellesméra and trust him to return."

King Orrin looked thoughtful. "Where else would he go? I know you're thinking Galbatorix, but why would he turn to him? The very man who caused Rune's sleep and tried to take everything from her? The boy maybe unstable, but he's not stupid."

Nasuada sighed and sat down. "You're right. I'm just paranoid."

King Orrin smiled at her. "I have an idea. Why don't we saddle up a pair of horses and take a ride in the fields? It'll be a welcome distraction for us both."

Nasuada nodded. "Alright," she said with a faint grin. "That sounds wonderful."

oooooooooooooooooooooo

Shay had herself propped up against a pillow, fuming silently inside her mind. How dare they treat her like an invalid? It wasn't as if there was anything wrong with her! She should have been out on the training fields or guarding the king, not sitting in bed like a stupid little girl with the flu!

She untangled the blankets from her legs, feeling annoyed and grumpy.

"How much longer do I have to stay?" she asked, hating herself for whining but unable to help it. This was grinding incessantly on her nerves. It wouldn't have been so bad if people hadn't started shown up, all smiles and sympathy. She hated people seeing her like this.

"Fifteen minutes less than the last time you asked," Angela replied. Which basically meant I don't know. Stop asking.

Shay sighed, laying back. "Why am I here anyways? We both know my attack had nothing to do with my health."

Angela nodded. "Yes."

"Then why can't I leave?"

Angela didn't answer. Shay was getting fed up. She was sick of this place, sick of being bored, sick of Angela and her stupid evading the questions. She stood up. Her legs felt shaky from misuse.

Ignoring Angela's protests, Shay left the herbalist's chambers, heading down the hall to find her own. She needed to get out of this pathetic nightdress.

She reached her chambers and slipped inside. She began to throw on a tunic, not caring which one it was or that it was just slightly dirty and smelled damp. Anything was better than that stupid cotton number she's been in for what seemed like a year.

As she dressed, Shay thought about what had happened to her. The source of the pain was Lily, she was sure of that. But the consciousness that spoke to her…that might have been Lily, and at the same time, maybe it wasn't. Shay couldn't tell.

If it was Lily, than something had definitely changed about her.

Shay sighed, leaning against the wall. Could Lily have changed so much that her mind – once as familiar as Shay's own – felt foreign and unrecognizable? Had it really been two years? Two years since the comforting blonde shadow had disapeared? Two years since she had been alone?

Hitting her head against the wall, Shay let out a stream of curses. She had changed too. Lily probably wouldn't even recognize her now.

Shay felt dejection swallow her heart. There was nothing she could do to fix things between her and Lily. There were no magic words to bring her back. It made her feel helpless and angry.

Shay hated the helpless feeling most of all. Anger could give you strength. Helplessness only made you weak.

And if there was one thing Shay hated, it was being weak.