Dawn was just about to break when Fírnen woke from his slumber, and to his surprise, Arya wasn't up yet. Actually, that was growing unsurprising at this rate. This is the fourth day in a row that she's overslept, and while he wanted to let her sleep, he also knew they were following a strict schedule. At least in Arya's mind they were. On one hand, they were racing the clock when it came to the dreaded point where she started showing physical signs of her pregnancy, on the other, it was important that she let herself rest because growing a person is far more taxing than she expected. He wanted her to rest anyways, as her routine escape to vomit occurred in the very early morning. He could see the toll it was taking on her.

They had been traveling for ten days now, and as the current sun rose to brighten the land, it marked the start of day eleven. Arya was just three days away from being eight weeks pregnant, and that thought didn't do a single thing to help her growing anxiety, so… she ignored it.

Fírnen let out a long and careful sigh so as to not jostle her wake.

"Is everything alright?" Katrina asked softly, appearing with a kettle full of water in her hand. It was obvious she understood that within Fírnen's curled up body, a sleeping member of their group resided. Roran hadn't risen yet either, and Ismira was down for her morning nap.

The young woman kicked together a few sticks for kindling, then struck a piece of flint with a thick sliver of steel. Sparks flew over the dry grass she had already placed underneath the pile, and soon the flames licked the smaller sticks. She piled heavier sticks onto the fire and blew gently to get it started. No longer were they in Du Weldenvarden where the ground was damp. Now they had seen the biome change and begin to flatten. They were getting close to Palancar Valley.

"Yes, I believe so. How do you fare this morning?" He asked.

"I'm well." She smiled, then chuckled lightly. "I have to say, it's starting to feel unusual being the only bipedal awake at this hour. I know my two are doing well, but what about Arya? She's been awfully quiet this entire trip." Her ending sounded more serious than the beginning.

Fírnen nodded. "She has quite a bit going on at the moment. As you know, Nasuada requested our presence in court, so we will be gone for much longer than she would like. She's okay, though. Or at least she will be."

Katrina set the spit up over the flames and hung their kettle from the center. "I understand. That must be difficult. I almost dread the time when Roran and myself become the new rulers over Carvahall. Perhaps I can talk him out of a monarchy by inheritance and into an elective monarchy like the one you have in Ellesméra." She said, looking over at him. She turned away and looked down again. "You know… if I daresay, I'm either very concerned or very happy for your Rider. If you say she's okay, then I believe I'm happy for her, but I don't want to jump to conclusions, nor do I want to be bold." She raised an eyebrow before taking a seat on a fallen log.

Fírnen chuckled deeply, then instantly quieted himself for fear of waking Arya. "I am now incredibly intrigued. Perhaps, if you would, venture into your conclusion without worry of offense." He asked kindly.

Katrina just smiled. "In that case, it seems she's going through the same afflictions I went through when I was pregnant with Ismira. Is it possible that she's with child? All of my observations of her symptoms are lining up. She gets sick in the middle of the morning, she drinks some familiar smelling teas, and… well, she looks exhausted. There are a few physical changes that I've noticed as well, though nobody would notice if they weren't looking for them. Roran has no clue about what's going on, though. As intelligent as he is, he's oblivious to things like that." She laughed quietly to herself as she poked the ground with a stick.

Fírnen sobered and remained quiet for a moment before responding. "I can't tell you that you're wrong, but I must urge you to not tell anyone about it, including Roran. It would be okay if he notices on his own, but it would also be best if you swore to secrecy. It's mainly a precaution for her safety." He said hesitantly.

Katrina recoiled slightly. "Oh…oh, of course. I understand entirely. I hadn't thought about it like that. Yes, I-I'll swear."

"Good. Now, repeat after me." He began and Katrina nodded. For the next few minutes, he helped her with the pronunciation of each word, and then they put them together to form a sentence. Fírnen made sure to allow her to speak with both himself and Arya about it, as it directly involved them, but not to Roran, Ismira (despite her youth), or anyone else. Katrina was happy to oblige and did her absolute best to learn quickly and accurately.

When they had finished, the water in the kettle was boiling, so she removed it from it's hook and carefully poured the hot liquid into a mug, then steeped one of the numerous tea bags she received in Ellesméra. This one happened to have lavender in it.

"Thank you, Katrina, for being so flexible with the situation. My Rider is sensitive to it, and I want to help her, but I'm not sure how. I fear she may be a danger to herself if her outlook doesn't improve." He sighed remorsefully. It was difficult to watch Arya be so hard on herself so often, especially when his words and sent feelings didn't seem to do much.

"Perhaps I could talk to her? I remember Elaine spoke to me soon after Eragon and Roran had rescued me and my father from Helgrind. I wasn't in the best headspace, mainly because I didn't know what Roran would say, but deep down I knew he would be supportive. I worried because we were unmarried and we were also in the middle of a war. Elaine came and spoke to me privately because she was noticing the symptoms on me as well." Katrina blew on the liquid, mainly out of habit than for functionality's sake.

"I believe that would be a great idea. Arya doesn't know much about what her body is doing and she finds it distressing. It seems she refuses to believe that she's going to be okay. She's always trusted herself, but I think this situation is the exception to that."

Katrina nodded. "Has she told… um… has she told the father yet?"

Fírnen shook his head and a saddened look washed over his features. "No, and unfortunately, their individual duties prevent her from telling him. She wants to, I think, but she can't."

Katrina's expression fell too. "What kind of duty is he bound to? May I ask that?"

Fírnen sighed gently. She already swore, he decided. She can't tell anyone. "Dragons. Across the sea."

Her eyes widened and she pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. "Eragon?" Her voice was barely a whisper and Fírnen nodded. "She… she's family to us through this… maybe not by her own customs, but through Human customs she is." Her hand fell and she took a deep breath to steady herself. "I won't bring this up when I speak to her. If she volunteers the information, that is her decision." Katrina nodded with a deep breath, but her eyes remained wide.

"That might be best." He agreed. "But do you see why I asked you to take an oath? There remains a faction of people who still sympathize with Galbatorix. She'll be in danger and so will the child." His eyes softened. "I just want her to be safe, that's all."

Katrina shared in the universal effort to protect one's family, so she understood perfectly. "If I was in your situation, I would want the same. We do things for our family because we love them. I wouldn't even think about telling anyone else for that reason alone. Roran would want to know, though, but that's really up to you and Arya. Would you perhaps consider the prospect?" she asked hopefully.

"Speak to Arya first and see. I'm sure she will warm up to the idea. I know she has a fondness for you and your family that she usually doesn't entertain. It helps that she will now be included in your tree of relations." He said.

"I'll do that then. I'm happy to welcome her to this family, and I hope our children get to know each other as they grow." Katrina smiled fondly.

Fírnen felt Arya shift in her sleep, and he knew she was about to wake up by the small whimper she made when she stretched. "Let her know that when you talk. It will mean much to her. For now, we must rest this conversation, as she is about to get up." He offered a smile, as best as a dragon could, then waited for his Rider to ready herself and ask to be let out.

Meanwhile, Katrina nodded anf took to quietly drinking her tea and contemplating her conversation with Fírnen. He could see she was already going over the things she would want to say to Arya now that her suspicions have been confirmed. He could only hope this went well for both of them. He was beginning to seriously worry about his Rider.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" He asked, shifting slightly.

"Mhm." She responded, but he knew the response wasn't honest. "Absolutely. I feel like I got hit in the head with a brick and my limbs feel like lead. Can't get much better than that."

He huffed and rolled his eyes. "It was just a question. Are you going to be constantly sarcastically bitter now? You were at least somewhat friendly last week. What happened?"

"You know what." She grumpily muttered under her breath.

"Let me out, we need to leave and I have a bad feeling you let me oversleep again." He felt her sit up and stretch for a second time.

"Brush your hair first." He said, locking his wings down so she couldn't escape.

"You know I have it tied up to avoid that. I brushed it last night."

"So do it again. I'm not letting you out until you calm down." He reprimanded and he heard her sigh of defeat.

Within his embrace, she grabbed her brush and let her long hair down. It fell over her shoulders like spilled ink as it ran down a wall, and with controlled movements, she began brushing her hair.

"See? It's not so bad." Fírnen said cheerfully but felt a sudden and rather dangerous spike of anger come from his Rider. He just sighed and decided to stop bothering her before she did something drastic. It hasn't even been a year yet since he's hatched and he already knows how dramatic his Rider can be at times. On occasion she can be downright childish, but that can only be seen in the privacy of her own solitude. He just didn't want her to do anything she'd regret.

Meanwhile, instead of responding, Arya leaned forward and pushed all of her hair to her front, covering her face. She gathered it up and brushed it out, then tied it up so the leather tie rested close to her forehead. She pulled the knife that was resting idly in a hidden compartment of her left boot and placed the edge a foot and a half out from the leather tie. With a quick and smooth motion, the long length of black hair fell to the floor, a diagonal cut was made cleanly above the band that bound the cut section together. She ignored the severed bundle and sheathed her knife, then slid her boots on. For comedy's sake and to appease Fírnen, she ran the brush through the shortened length. It now fell just past her shoulders, where before, the longest portion was down to the backs of her knees.

"Done." She grumbled, grabbing the bundle of hair from the ground.

"That was fast." He responded.

"I do things quickly, now let me out. I need to make some tea. I no longer feel well." As aggressive as she sounded, he knew she was only aggravated because she was weary.

"As you wish. Just don't be mean to anyone. They didn't do anything to you." He reminded her and she stifled a growl of her own.

"Just let me out. I promise not to be short with anyone." She rolled her eyes as she started going through her bag, skilfully avoiding the book Rhunön had told her to read to get to the different mixtures of teas the blacksmith had thankfully given to her. She still refused to read it.

"Fírnen." She spoke and she felt him shift to give her more room, except he still refused to let her out.

She just sighed and stood on her knees to pocket the bag of tea and then to belt her sword on. When she pulled the leather band around her waist, she froze.

It fit differently.

"What's wrong?" Fírnen asked gently when he felt a blast of strong emotions strike his Rider to an almost painful degree.

"I…" she hesitated, the leather strap slid between her fingers and fell to the ground. She sat back on her heels and released the breath she was holding. "I'm…" her throat closed off and immediate concern bloomed in Fírnen.

"Arya." He growled.

"Don't…" she whimpered softly, unable to finish as her hands pressed over the new gentle swell between her hips. She sank down against him, allowing her legs to stretch out straight. She couldn't tear her watering eyes away from her abdomen.

"I don't feel good." She mentioned quietly.

"What's wrong?" He repeated immediately, unable to see through the fog in her mind to find out what's going on.

"I'm… the… my… I can see…" she stammered frantically and unable to form a coherent thought.

"Breathe, Arya." he offered as a reminder.

She hesitated, then did as she was told. "Okay…" she said, nodding, her eyes lingering on the change in her physique. It was small and barely noticeable, but there all the same. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Ever since they'd left, she had more or less attempted to put it out of her mind that she's carrying a child. The only exception is her routine of vomiting in the early morning and drinking tea throughout the day to help, but even that was troubling to her. In theory, it was just easier to ignore it. In reality, the fact that she's pregnant was on her mind all the time, and she received very little rest from it.

"Fírnen… it's… too early… something's wrong…" she said nervously on an exhale, feeling suddenly panicked.

"Everything's fine, Arya. You should check, though. It's been almost two weeks and you haven't checked on the baby yourself." He reasoned and he knew her eyes widened. He hoped he hadn't pushed it too far. He knows she's a little more than sensitive.

"N-no… I can't…"

"Yes, you can. If you look, you might feel better." He reasoned and she nodded.

"O-okay…"

He hummed happily and left his Rider in peace for a while.

His eyes scanned his surroundings, and he found that Katrina had left some time ago. She most likely went to tend to her own duties, which might include waking Roran up. Fírnen wondered about that. Did she wake him up, or did he wake himself up? He knew Roran was a light sleeper due to living in the environment of war for so long. Arya is the same way, he recalled, then blew a large smoke ring that was taken away with the wind.

He heard Katrina's voice, then Roran's as they began packing for the day's Ride. They were so much different than the Elves, who were constantly laid back unless insulted or thrown into passion by something beautiful. Elves, he decided, focused too closely on the little things. Humans focused too much on the big picture. Arya is different. She's caught between the two, having been raised in an Elvish community, but then also having lived around humans for so long as well. He remembers how nervous she was to go home…

"Fírnen?!" She yelped and he felt her move quickly. He was drawn back into the present abruptly and he hoped she was okay.

"Yes?" He responded coolly. He felt her panic, though. It was a different sort of panic than he was growing used to from her. This panic was… perhaps not as grim? "What did you find?" He asked gently.

Arya took a few steadying breaths before responding. "Fírnen… I'm… I'm having a boy…"

A/N: Good morning! I know it's been a few days since I last updated and, well, this chapter was written and rewritten about four times within that span. It is meant to be mainly from Fírnen's perspective, but unfortunately, he doesn't get many lines in the book so his intended personality is mostly a mystery, that's why this chapter holds some flexibility between Fírnen's perspective and Arya's. I'm still trying to work out how I want him to be perceived. I will go back later and make revisions to this because I'm not fond of it being this way. It feels too random and disorganized to me, but I'd prefer to not get too hung up on it for now :)

I want to also mention that Arya is an Elf, so I am modifying the textbook sequence of progression when it comes to a normal Human pregnancy. When she starts reading that book I keep talking about, I'll explain everything. I know it seems strange now, because eight weeks is technically too early for a person who is only having one child to be showing (the dynamic changes for twins). I've done extensive research for this topic as well because I'd like it to be as legitimate sounding as possible. Knowledge of a subject always adds a good quality to writing, so if I don't have anything else going for me, I've got the Google!

Anyways, as a special note, it would be my undying pleasure to thank SergeantWestover for the wonderful words of encouragement, advice and ideas. You've helped me consider things I haven't in the past pertaining to the flow of the story, and it's helped exponentially. I'd also like to thank everyone else as well for their lovely words, as things like that help give writers the motivation to continue writing!

The next chapter is coming soon, and I hope you enjoyed this one!

-Lady Arlo