Murtagh felt his heart beating faster in his chest. "Lily? Is she okay?"

Galbatorix shrugged. "Last I checked she was approaching Du Weldenvarden. Why do you ask?"

Shaking his head, abashed, Murtagh looked at the ground. "No reason, sir."

"Ah. Developed an attachment to our little assassin, have we?"

Murtagh looked away. "I miss Rune," he muttered. It was true. He missed the bright, sunny girl very much. But…perhaps not as much as he might once have. He remembered how her lips had felt against his, in that goodbye kiss she had graced him. Once he had drawn strength from that memory…now it held none.

He tried to recall her face to mind. To his horror, his mental picture was blurry. As if she was a half-forgotten memory, no more.

"Is…is Rune with the Varden, your highness?"

Galbatorix smiled cruelly. "To my knowledge she is with Eragon. In Ellesméra."

Murtagh's heart sank to his boots. Lily was heading to Ellesméra. No!

Rune…

Lily…

Did it matter anymore? Both would be dead…

"I'm afraid Lily won't reach Ellesméra for quite some time," Galbatorix was muttering. "The foolish girl…"

Some time? Good.

That suited Murtagh just fine.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

You want me to what!

Thorn was staring at his Rider incredulously, his golden eyes wide. Murtagh, that's crazy.

You're a dragon, Murtagh pleaded, Galbatorix can't stop you.

But MurtaghThorn counseled. That's insane. I couldn't.

Of course you could. Please? For me?

Thorn snorted, as if going for Murtagh wasn't much of a motivation. You overestimate your worth to me.

Murtagh laughed. If you won't do it for me, what about Rune?

Thorn blinked. I miss Rune.

I do too. Will you do it for her?

Very well. Thorn heaved a dragon sigh. I'll do it. For Rune, mind you.

Heaven forbid I think you're doing it for me, Murtagh teased.

I'll leave tonight, then, Thorn grumbled.

He was not happy about this. Not happy at all.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

Eragon brushed the hair away from Rune's face gently, squeezing her hands in his. She looked as if she had merely settled down to take a nap. The Menoa Tree swayed with interest.

What was going to happen? she seemed to ask.

"It is time, Rune," Eragon whispered. "I need a weapon."

He wasn't sure what he expected to happen, but something would have been nice. Rune gave no response to confirm she had heard.

Eragon tightened his grip on her hands. "Please, Rune. I need you now."

Still she didn't respond. Eragon felt his heart sinking, his hope evaporating. He had been so sure.

He was missing something. He had to be. She had to awaken. Had to.

Part of him was ready to scream.

Deal with it, Eragon! he cried to himself. She's dead.

Dead.

He had killed her. His own stupid incompetence had assured that she would never take another breath.

She would never awaken.

"The time has come," he whispered. "What a joke."

He felt the tears begin to fall, lightly at first, then a storm of them. Murderer. He should have been able to do it. He should have. What was it that the Dream Rune had said?

You are weak. Súndavar could have done it.

He wiped his tears away with his sleeve. It was stupid to cry. He could do nothing.

Nothing.

Try as he might to hold it back, a single tear slid down his cheek. It splattered on Rune's face, a drop of fear, uncertainty, imperfection. Eragon ignored it.

"I should have tried harder," he whispered. "I'm so sorry." He squeezed her hands tighter in what he thought was a final goodbye.

She squeezed back.

Don't be.

Her lips didn't move, but her voice in Eragon's ears was clear. Disbelief, then joy, blossomed in his chest.

He touched her shoulder. "Rune?"

Eragon?

Her eyes flitted open. Green eyes. As brilliant as he had remembered. There were tears in them. A smile touched her lips, then disappeared.

Eragon was overwhelmed. He had done it! Rune! He stood up, bring her to her feet. She wobbled there was a moment, like a baby learning to walk, then collapsed against him.

"You're weak," Eragon spoke softly to her. He wanted to hold her, protect her. She was back. Nothing would make him lose her again.

She closed her eyes, her head against his chest. She said nothing, but her feelings blossomed in Eragon's mind openly, bursts of gentle blue and vivid green.

He placed one finger under her chin, angling her face up to meet his. Gently, ever so slowly, he pressed his lips to hers.

She kissed back weakly, too far gone to care or think.

I missed you, Eragon's lips told her. Don't leave me again.

She didn't respond. Instead, she clasped her hands around his neck, pulling him deeper. His fingers tangled in her hair. The feel of his body sparked something in her, some inner strength. She kissed him harder, pressing herself against him more, leaning into the feel of fire.

It was Rune who pulled out first. Her green eyes met his for a moment, before she closed them. Her arms slipped from his neck, to his waist. He wrapped his arms around her tightly. He kissed her forehead softly, loving the feeling of her skin.

She smiled faintly again. There were no words for her to say, but her pleasure made blotches in his mind, clear and blurry at the same time. Her head fell against his chest limply.

Eragon picked her up. She fell asleep in his arms, curling into him like a cat. This sleep held no fear in Eragon's heart. She was back. Rune.

Eragon Shadeslayer left, Rune held close.

Rune.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Arya watched Eragon and Rune with even eyes. There was a spark of joy in her heart. Rune was awake again. Things could return to normal.

But that kiss…

She should have been happy. Perhaps Eragon would forget his silly infatuation with her. Perhaps he would be content to be friends, without the endless, pathetic come-ons he plagued her with now.

Yes, the princess of Ellesméra should have been happy.

But she wasn't.