Rune's heart hammered in her skull, sending a jerk of pain through her mind with every beat. She groaned and rolled over.

"Rune?"

The voice was loud, like thunder. She recoiled, pulling the blanket over her head. "Go away!" came her muffled reply.

Her senses felt overloaded, her chest ached with every breath, and all traces of the enjoyable buzzing from last night were gone. She opened her eyes, then squeezed them shut again as light burst into her head.

Rune?

The voice in her heart was familiar, made some of the pain go away. Eragon?

Yeah. How do you feel?

Awful. Worse than awful.

It'll go away. Don't worry, Eragon assured.

She sent him painful blast of red, making him groan. Before he could recover, she piped, What happened anyways?

She felt Eragon's hands on her, helping her sit up. She followed their lead without much resistance.

Shay got you drunk. She and Vanir added dwarf brew to the faelnírv.

I'm going to kill her, Rune grumped, easing open her eyes again. She found herself in Eragon's room. That was a surprise. Her memory was fuzzy.

"It was a—"

Shut up. Your voice hurts my head.

It was a joke, Eragon amended to her silently.

Some joke. Why am I here?

I didn't want you waking up and going back to the party, Eragon explained sheepishly. So I brought you here. Hope you don't mind?

No, it's fine. Did I make a fool of myself?

Well…

Did I?

You danced on the table, Eragon answered. But no one minded. I stopped you from taking off your dress, so I think you've still got some dignity.

Well, for that I thank you, she murmured. Can you heal my head?

Unfortunately, no. You've got to sit this one out.

Rune tried to stand up, but her head swum dangerously, and she collapsed against Eragon. He stood her back up, leaning in his arms. "You'll have to take it easy today."

She winced when he spoke out loud, but didn't complain. "Suppose," she muttered. "Where's Shay?"

"Most likely on the practice fields."

"Shouldn't you be with Oromis?"

"He gave me leave for the morning. Súndavar's moaning of a headache the size of the Beors, and both Saphira and Slate are still out cold."

Rune snorted, but said nothing. She started towards the door, moving slowly but with increasing confidence. "I think I'm good now," she said, leaning against the door. "I'd better go talk to Súndavar."

Eragon nodded. "He's being grilled by Oromis about one matter or another," said the Rider. "I've never seen Ebrithil so mad."

Rune's eyes widened, and she darted out the door, and down the stairs. Her mind swirled.

There was only one thing that Súndavar could be catching it for. His secret was out. And Rune knew that being reprimanded about it would only worsen her companion's problem.

She hid in the trees, watching Súndavar and Oromis talking.

"This type of behavior is intolerable," Oromis was saying. "It distracts from your duty as a Rider. Not only that, but it endangers yourself, as well as the princess."

What? How did Súndavar hurting himself endanger Rune? Himself, that she could understand, but her? What did Oromis think he was going to do, cut her wrist?

"Her Highness has expressed to you she harbors no such feelings towards you," Oromis continued. "Yet you continue to push her."

Rune blinked stupidly. So that was what this was about? Not Súndavar's cutting…about his endless flirting and come-ons? She resisted a laugh.

"I'm sorry, Oromis," Súndavar mumbled, looking at the ground.

Oromis shook his head and began to pace. "The conduct of the two of you at Rune's party was most inappropriate."

"You can't hold it against us," complained the boy. "We were drunk."

Oromis's eyes flashed. "A point which I also must counsel you on. Drink clouds the mind, Súndavar. You—"

"It's wasn't our fault!" protested Súndavar. "Shay spiked the faelnírv!"

"Have I not taught you to detect when there are unknown contents in your food or drink?"

"Well…yes. But it was a party. I wasn't thinking about poison. And certainly not rum."

Oromis shook his head. "Despite your condition, you must be held accountable for your actions. Apologies to the princess are in order."

"Yes, Oromis."

"And you really must control yourself. Your infatuation with her must not take over your mind. Your heart belongs to the people."

"But—but I love her."

"A boyish passion," Oromis dismissed. "Fleeting as the sunset. It will fade in time. Do not nurse thoughts of her, for they will only lead to disappointment."

"She…"

"She feels nothing for you. You hold no place in her heart."

Súndavar looked at the ground. "Yes, Oromis."

"Súndavar, guard your heart, for such are treacherous, and will lead you astray. Go, find Rune and apologize. Lessons will resume tomorrow. I want not to speak of this again."

Nodding forlornly, the Shade boy turned from Oromis. Rune fled. She felt angry at Oromis for telling Súndavar he held no place in her heart – that wasn't true! – angry at Súndavar for not sticking up for himself, angry at Shay for starting the whole damned mess.

She wasn't sure where to go. Eragon would offer comfort, but he wouldn't really understand how she felt. Shay would understand…but she was mad at Shay. Arya…well, Arya was so calm, poised. She didn't have problems, and wouldn't know what to do with the emotional girl.

Instead she went to the practice fields. She wanted to hit something…

Vanir would do nicely.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Where's Vanir?"

The elf looked up at her, cringing at her voice as if his head hurt. "Vanir?"

"The black haired idiot who's usually here with Captain Shay."

"He is not here," muttered the elf, holding his head. "You might check his home."

He gave Rune directions, and the princess started off in the direction he pointed.

Rune hadn't gotten lost in Ellesméra since the day in Lycona's chambers. It was as if her mother's fay had made the city part of her. As if she knew it in her heart.

Vanir's home was surprisingly modest, a medium sized apartment. She knocked on the door angrily. It swung open.

"Vanir?"

There was no answer. Rune stepped hesitantly inside, looking for the elf.

He didn't seem to be home. Rune was about to leave, when she caught sight of something on the desk.

At first glance, she thought it was a painting. But it wasn't. It was a fairth, colored by magic.

She picked it up, examining it.

The picture was of Shay. But it was Shay as Rune had never seen her before. Her skin was the purest of white, flawless, without blemish. Her hair was like a shadow, and her eyes were the color of ice. A type of rage crossed her face, but it made her look even more beautiful.

A series of jumbled feeling and words soared into Rune's mind when she touched the fairth.

Lust…beauty…anger…faith…wrath…hope…weakness…belief…fury…ignorance…

She dropped it back on the desk, surprised. The feelings vanished.

"What are you doing?"

Rune gasped, turning. Vanir stood in the doorway, looking angry.

Unable to find the words, Rune stayed silent. She brushed dark copper hair from her face, fixing him with a meaningful look.

Vanir moved quickly across the room, picking up the fairth. He looked at it for a moment, then set it against the wall.

"It's Shay."

"Yes."

"And those feelings…they were yours?"

Confusion showed in his eyes. "Feelings?"

"When I touched it…" Rune murmured. "I…felt."

"No. They weren't mine," Vanir denied. "It's a stupid fairth anyways. It's not how I feel."

"I may be young, but I'm not a child. You cannot lie in the Ancient Language."

Vanir shrugged. "I said it's stupid."

"You like her, don't you?"

"Her company is pleasurable."

"Is that all?" Rune asked, knowing that it wasn't.

"I find her attractive. That is all."

Rune raised her eyebrows. "Very well. If you say so."

"She is human," Vanir said. "She is weak, and mortal as the leaves on the trees."

"Perhaps. But you can still love her."

"I do not."

"I suppose it doesn't mean much that I don't believe you?"

Vanir shook his head. "Rune-finira, please. I cannot explain my feelings to you, and have no wish to do so."

"Can not, or will not?"

"Both. If I do feel anything for Shay Everwood, it is because I have not kept my heart in check, and allowed it to run away with fantasies. Such feelings must be rooted out. Nothing can come from such periods of lust."

Rune looked at him sadly. "You are dooming yourself to sorrow, Vanir," she told him.

"Perhaps. But sorrow is better than losing myself to my passion. Shay intrigues me, and sometimes I feel my reserve lessening when I look in her eyes. But it is not to be."

"But do as you wish."

"I will. Could we not speak of this again?"

"If you want."

"And you'll say nothing to Shay?"

Rune nodded. "Nothing of our conversation shall meet her ears. But you should tell her."

"You make it sound as if I have admitted to my love for her."

Rune smiled. "You just did."

Ancient Language:

finira : an honorific for a young woman of great potential

Author's Note: 'finira' isn't real. I just took 'finiarel' and changed it to a more feminine form.