Merry Christmas everyone! I know it's late but I thought most of you would be busy during the day to read this exceptionally long chapter so I thought I would upload it at night. I hope you've all had a jolly christmas, I know I have :) (I don't think Christmas exists in Alagaesia does it?) Anyways, this is my Christmas gift to you all! The battle will be the next chapter!

Since the third day of the Empire's arrival, everyone waited on edge. Eragon frowned as he tried to straighten his bare steel gauntlet on his arms. The new armor that Nasuada had sent him was beyond his expectations. Made of bare steel and lined with gold it was the finest and strongest armor that he'd laid his eyes on. And he was grateful for the dwarves' handiwork. Unable to fix it, he cursed under his breath. "Good morning to you as well."

Arya had pulled back he flap to his tent and instead of the leather clothing that she'd usually preferred, she was armored as a man for battle. "You seem to have a knack for catching me in my worst of moods."

"You're just…outspoken early in the morning," she said as she approached him, carrying something obscured in a bag. She set it on his table before reaching out to fix his gauntlet with ease. Once done, she tapped the steel of his armor. "You're armor is beautiful."

"I agree, I am in King Hrothgar's debt." Then he frowned, "Though I wasn't given a helm."

She smiled and reached forward towards her bag, pulling out a beautifully crafted helm, which as his armor was lined with gold. "Which is why I am here. Rhunon had crafted you a helm per my request. Your old helm resembles too much of a monster to be seen within the Varden."

He accepted it, turning it in his hands. It truly was a beautiful object, he thought as he stared at it. Every line, every indenture was elegantly carved and welded. He remembered how Rhunon broke his fingers with her hammer the first time he'd met her. When Arya asked for the source of his amusement, she too saw the humor in it. "I was going to warn you not to touch her work…but I thought against it."

"And why was that? She broke my fingers," asked Eragon.

"I thought you could fend for yourself."

Her answer made him raise an eyebrow at her but he let the subject drop. Instead, he donned his helm as Arya went to reach for something else in her bag. This time, she pulled out a white cape that was embroidered with the Varden's crest. "A gift from Nasuada, you original cape was destroyed."

He nodded before tying it into a knot around the base of his neck, completing his ensemble. He glanced at Arya. "How do I look?"

Her answer did not surprise him, "Fit for battle."

With his swords strapped to his waist, the two of them made way for Nasuada's pavilion like they had been doing since before the arrival of the Empire's army. His armor clanked with every step he took but it was comfortable sound that he'd grown used to. Though they had not gone to war yet, it was a precaution in case they were attacked without formality. Arya, Eragon observed was an intimidating sight. Armored as a man, her sword Tamerlein hung from her waist, the green a startling color against the silver of her armor. She was one of the most deadliest warriors he'd ever met.

"Where are the dragons?"

"Scouting enemy movement from above, they seem restless," was Arya's reply. They'd reached Nasuada's tent entering to find her also garbed for war. The sight of her sent apprehension through him, though he knew she was capable of holding her own he could not see her in war. To his surprise, he worried for her not as his liege lord but also as a friend.

She glanced up acknowledging their presence. She took a moment to glance at Eragon in his new armor. "A fine fit indeed, once our enemy catches sight of you it would surely give them pause."

They approached her table where she was studying a slew of maps. "I've been trying to find a way to give us the best chance at victory if not then at drawing out the battle. But it is hard to plan a strategy on a battlefield such as the Burning Plains."

"Then we'll just have to attack them head on," said Eragon as he too studied the map.

"A simple strategy but it seems to be the only way we have left." She sighed rubbing her face tiredly. "We need a strategy that will give us the best chances in this war and that will not turn it into a war of attrition, the Varden just can't handle that."

"Saphira and I can lead a charge against them then, if we can push them back or prolong them then it could give the Varden an advantage," said Eragon.

"It's too dangerous, none of the dragons can take to the sky before we take care of Galbatorix's magicians," said Arya with a shake of her head. "We're confined to the ground until then."

He grunted, hating the thought of it. But she was right and it would be foolish to fly in an open space with magicians at large. For the next few hours they spent it planning of a strategy that would put them at an advantage before the flap to the tent was cast aside. Both he and Arya pulled their swords inches out of their sheaths, alerted of this new presence.

To his surprise, he found himself staring at Murtagh and standing beside him was the dwarf, Orik. "Murtagh!" it was Nasuada who spoke and he could hear the relief and delight in her voice at the sight of his half brother.

In response, Murtagh bowed deeply to her his smile brighter than Eragon could recall. He shared a look with Arya, she must have saw the feelings that Murtagh held for the ruler of the Varden. If anything Murtagh was infatuated with her. "My lady."

"How did you get our message so quickly?" she asked, Eragon wondering the same.

Instead be shook his head, moving forward with ease to join them. "I didn't; I learned about Galbatorix's army from my scrying and left Ellesmera the same day." He smiled at her again. "It's good to be back with the Varden."

"I've heard much about your tales in Ellesmera from Arya and Eragon, Murtagh. It is good to know that your back has been healed, with you here we now are on even footing with the Empire. Or with a slight advantage in any case, the Varden is glad at your return." Her mail clinking as she seated herself in a large, high backed chair and turned to Orik, who had yet to speak. She welcomed him and asked if he had aught to add to Murtagh's tales. Orik shrugged and provided a few anecdotes for his stay in Ellesmera, though Eragon knew that he kept his true observations a secret for his king.

Nasuada nodded, "Though I am heartened to know that we will have the elves by our side if we can weather this onslaught, I want to ask if you've seen any of Hrothgar's warriors during your flight from Aberon. We are counting on their reinforcements."

It was Thorn who answered. No, but then it was dark and I often flown above or between the clouds. I could have easily missed a camp under those conditions. In any case I doubt we would cross paths, for I flew straight from Aberon and the dwarves would likely choose a different route.

Eragon nodded, that wasn't comforting but at least they had another reckoning force returned to the Varden. Murtagh may not be as strong as Eragon was nor as swift as Arya but he can hold his own against more than dozens of Galbatorix's soldiers.

"What," asked Murtagh "is the situation here?"

Nasuada sighed and began to inform them of the occurrences that had happened while he was absent. By the time, Nasuada had explained the number of soldiers that they were up against, Murtagh's expression became one of dismay. "A hundred thousand soldiers! Where did they come from? It seems impossible that he could find more than a handful of people willing to serve him."

"They were conscripted. We can only hope that the men who were torn from their homes won't be eager to fight. If we can frighten them badly enough, they may break ranks and flee. Our numbers are greater than in Farthen Dur, for King Orrin has joined forces with us and we have received a veritable flood of volunteers since we began to spread the word about you, Eragon. Especially soldiers from the Empire who'd deserted their posts and came here to serve you."

This piece of information surprised him. For he hadn't heard of it before. "Is that so?"

"Yes, I apologize for not mentioning it to you earlier but we've managed to muster a battalion of deserters from Galbatorix's army. They came here to serve you, Eragon. Though I'm sure that Galbatorix is trying to stomp out rumors of you joining the Varden to keep his army in piece," said Nasuada with a slight smile. "They are very apt soldiers, and some I've come to value quite much."

"Who is their commander?"

"I've appointed Bard as the commander of that certain battalion seeing as most of them are familiar to his presence. But ultimately, they've sworn their loyalty to me," she said. Eragon nodded, never bothering to consider that some of the Empire might actually see fit to abandon their posts to follow him. It was a heartening prospect. He would have to visit them when he could. As she spoke there was a rustle of fabric in the tent and he felt the strange mind of Elva approaching though he often spoke to the young girl, it was still strange when he felt her presence approach him.

She appeared before Murtagh, "Welcome, Argetlam. Welcome Thorn." He saw Murtagh shiver at the sound of Elva's voice, which was out of place for one as young as she was.

Before anyone could say anything the flap to Nasuada's tent was thrown open and to Eragon's surprise Angela came flying in and in her hand was a…mallard. Knowing her intentions but not bothering to stop the herbalist, Eragon watched as the short woman clubbed Murtagh over the head with it. "So you've finally decided to come back, you enormous blockhead!"

No one moved and he was slightly surprised the Thorn had openly allowed Angela to attack his rider but then again, Murtagh could've told him to stand down. Nasuada, who was sitting on her chair looked torn between kicking the herbalist out or allowing events to unfold. While Orik was on the defensive for his foster brother. Arya gazed at Angela with an expression of what seemed to be respect and she made no move to intervene which surprised him. Eragon knowing that he should placate the woman stood still watching as Angela began her tirade on Murtagh.

It was even more colorful than before. The tension in the tent slowly began to degrade into bemusement as they watched the short woman reprimand Murtagh who stood a head taller than her of stronger stature and physique. Angela explained in very colorful details the level of idiocy he must have possessed to bless Elva so wrongly. She even went as far to insinuate that one of his grandparents mated with an Urgal therefore siring the monster known as Morzan and as a result he was birthed. At this part, she stopped to send Eragon an apologetic expression. "Of course, I mean no insult towards Selena, Eragon. I admire her greatly."

He shook his head not offended. "It is quite alright."

With that said she returned to Murtagh to describe the quite hideous punishments he ought to receive for his idiocy, in which she shook her mallard at his threatening. The ending, however, he had yet to hear from her which amused him to the point that he had to feign a cough. Even Arya was smiling faintly. Angela had ended her tirade with the idea that if Murtagh was to become a father he would end up alienating his child with his idiocy which would poison Alagaesia. And the few very colorful predictions she last said Eragon would rather not repeat.

When she stopped done, Murtagh spoke, not moved by her tirade but also smiling at the short woman. "You're quite right, and I'm going to try and remove the spell if Elva allows me."

Elva who was watching the tirade let out a small gasp and like before when Eragon had told her of Murtagh healing her, tears came to her eyes. Everyone went silent as they watched the proceedings. "The elves taught me how to undo a spell, and I believe I can free you of this curse. It won't be easy, but it can be done."

She hid her emotions behind a cynical mask of amusement as she regarded Murtagh, "Well, we shall see. Either way, you shouldn't try until after this battle."

"I could save you a great deal of pain."

"It wouldn't do to exhaust you when I survival may depend on your talents. I do not deceive myself; you are more important than me." A sly grin crossed her face. "Besides, if you remove your spell now, I won't be able to help any of the Varden if they are threatened. You wouldn't want Nasuada to die because of that, would you?"

"No," admitted Murtagh with feeling. He paused for a long time, considering the issue, then said, "Very well, I will wait. But I swear to you: if we win this fight, I shall right this wrong."

The girl tilted her head to one side, "I will hold you to your word, Rider."

"As will I," said Angela, she glanced at the mallard in her hand and then to Murtagh before chucking it outside of the tent through the small gap that Thorn's head made in the opening. "I wouldn't need that anymore."

Rising from her chair, Nasuada said, "Good, now that everything is as it should be, I must introduce the three of you to Orrin and his nobles. Have you met King Orrin before, Orik?"

The dwarf shook his head. "I've never been this far west."

"I would also like to accompany you, Nasuada." said Angela. "I've heard interesting things about this monarch in particular."

Eragon stepped forward, "By your leave my lady, but I would like to visit the battalion that you've spoken of earlier."

She nodded her head. "They occupy the north eastern corner of the Varden's camp. Bard should be attending to them right now. You will be accompanying him, Arya?"

"I shall."

"Then I will see the two of you later on," with that she swept outside if the pavilion everyone following but Eragon and Arya. Before Murtagh left, he gave them a confused look. Once gone, Eragon turned to Arya.

"Angela is amusing as ever," said Eragon before adding, "You seem to respect her greatly."

"She is a wise one."

"That can be arguable on certain grounds." The two of them left the pavilion making way for the location Nasuada briefly mentioned. She was right for they found Bard standing before a battalion of a thousand soldiers armored for battle. When the blond cook caught sight of Eragon he bowed in respect.

"My lord."

"Bard." He gestured towards the battalion. "Are these soldiers from the Royal Army?"

"Yes, they've joined when they heard tale of you deserting the Empire," explained Bard with a proud smile. "Galbatorix may be their king but you were their real commander. Would you like to speak with them?"

Eragon nodded, and stood before the group of soldiers who were gazing up at him in wonder and admiration, and he could see that they were trying to picture him as the person who hid beneath a helm and called himself Gabranth. Before he could say anything, a bellow tore echoed in the sky and they all glanced up to find the dragons diving down towards the battalion, causing emerald and sapphire rays of light to dance upon the ground. He was impressed when none of the soldiers fled with fright at the sight of the two magnificent beasts. When they flared their wings out to slow their descent to the ground, it caused torrents of wind of buffer them before they landed on the ground with a thud.

So they're from the Empire, she said as she studied them with her large sparkling eyes. They held her gaze unwavering and unflinching despite the slight expression of fear on their face. There is no doubt that they've served under us before, Eragon.

Aye, he turned to them, "I apologize for my lateness in saying so but I would like to welcome you all to the Varden." They remained silent and he knew that it was time to show them that he was truly the rider that they'd followed. "It is a tragic thing to leave your homes but what you've done was not easy I would know. But Galbatorix has twisted our minds and stolen our loyalty from us for long enough and now is the time for us to take back what is ours." He gazed down at them. "It will be a long and arduous task and there will be times when we will be devoid of hope. It is not easy here with the Varden and it will never be easy so long as we march against the Black King. The time has come for us to take back Alagaesia and restore this land to its former glory."

Beside him, Bard raised his hand up in a show of morality, "For Lord Eragon! For Alagaesia!" Saphira lifted her head and let loose a torrent of flames.

Their response was instantaneous, they raised their arms and cries of his name and of Alagaesia rang through the air. He gazed down at the battalion with a sense of pride, knowing that they'd came all the way to Surda to offer their services for him. Arya who stood beside him was staring down at the assembled men with approval, "That was most eloquent, Eragon."

Indeed it was, said Saphira with pride. They will follow you to the ends of the earth, Eragon. And once the rest of the Empire hears of how Gabranth is supporting the Varden they will no doubt follow in your footsteps.

The world is changing, Eridor's deep voice rumbled in his mind. Even the Empire is seeing that change as the rest of the races are.

The lethargy that we've been in since the Fall of the Riders is finally abating with the Forsworn and Durza gone, we have an even chance at defeating Galbatorix. He turned to Arya and could see the light in her eyes through the cheers of his soldiers. For the next few hours, Eragon spent a decent amount of time with the soldiers knowing most of them by name for the majority served under him. And often times he was surprised to see high ranked generals and lieutenants part of the battalion. From what they'd told him, they along with their families made the trip to Surda to join the Varden after hearing tides about him. It wasn't easy either for Galbatorix was trying to spread word of his death to dissuade anymore soldiers from joining the Varden.

He was also pleasantly surprised to find skilled warriors there. With this battalion, he was sure that it would greatly help the Varden as an organization. The sun was no more than a finger's breadth above the horizon when a runner arrived at the camp. He told Eragon that Nasuada ordered him to attend her at once. "An' I think you'd better hurry, Shadeslayer, if you don't mind me saying so."

After bidding the soldiers goodbye they made their way through the gray tents towards Nasuada's pavilion. Eragon and Arya running while the dragons moved at their normal but large strides. A harsh tumult above them caused Eragon to lift his eyes from the treacherous ground long enough to glance overhead.

What he saw was a giant flock of birds wheeling between the two armies. He spotted eagles, hawks, and falcons, along with countless greedy crows and their larger, dagger-beaked, blue-backed, rapacious cousin, the raven. Each bid shrieked for blood to wet its throat and enough hot meat to fill its hot belly and sate its hunger. By experience and instinct, they knew that whenever armies appeared in Alagaesia, they could expect to feast on acres of carrion.

"They seem even more eager to start this battle than we are," Eragon said with a wry smile.

"If it presents them an opportune moment to feast, then they will hope for anything," Arya answered not pausing in her long strides as they ran side by side with one another. She was, Eragon observed, the faster of the two.

Eragon entered the pavilion, he was met by a steely rasp as Murtagh, Jormundur, and a half-dozen of Nasuada's commanders drew their swords at the intruders. The men lowered their weapons as Nasuada said, "Come here, Eragon."

"What is your bidding?" Eragon asked.

"Our scouts report that a company of some hundred Kull approach from the northeast."

Eragon frowned. He had not expected to encounters Urgals in this battle, since Durza no longer controlled them and so many had been killed in Farthen Dur. But if they had come, they had come. Though he wasn't sure whether or not it was to battle the Varden or something entirely different. "Do you wish for me to eliminate them? Saphira and I easily could."

Nasuada was watching both his and Murtagh's faces carefully as she said, "We can't do that, Eragon. They're flying a white flag, and they have asked to talk with me."

Eragon nodded contemplating the idea as Murtagh gaped at her. "Surely you don't intend to grant them an audience?"

"I will offer them the same courtesies I would to any foe who arrives under the banner of truce."

"They're brutes, though. Monsters! It's folly to allow them into the camp…Nasuada; I have seen the atrocities Urgals commit. They relish pain and suffering and deserve no more mercy than a rabid dog. There is no need for you to waste time over what is surely a trap. Just give the word and I and every last one of your warriors will be more than willing to kill these foul creatures for you."

"I don't see the harm in meeting with them," said Eragon interrupting the rather heated tension in the pavilion. Everyone's eyes jumped to him and he could see the approval in Nasuada's eyes at his words. "Even if it is a trap, Saphira and I are more than enough to fend them off."

"It's still too dangerous for her to meet with those monsters," protested Murtagh.

First Nasuada said something to Murtagh in a low undertone that none but Eragon and Arya caught. "Your training is indeed unfinished if you are so blinded." Then she raised her voice, an in it Eragon heard the same adamantine notes of command that her father had possessed. "You all forget that I fought in Farthen Dur, the same as you, and that I saw the savagery of the Urgals…However, I also saw that our own men commit acts just as heinous. I shall not denigrate what we have endured at the Urgals' hands, but neither shall I ignore potential allies when we are so greatly outnumbered by the Empire."

"My Lady, it's too dangerous for you to meet with a Kull."

"Too dangerous?" Nasuada raised an eyebrow. "While I am protected by Eragon, Saphira, Elva, and all the warriors around me? I think not."

"Thorn and I shall also accompany you," Murtagh said through gritted teeth, his left hand gripping the pommel of Zar'roc tightly.

"As will Eridor and I."

Nasuada nodded and faced her commanders as if daring them to challenge her protection when she was accompanied by three riders. Then at Nasuada's behest, her guards tied back the front and side panels of the pavilion, leaving it open for all to see and allowing the dragons to crouch low next to their riders. Then Nasuada seated herself in her high backed chair, and Jormundur and the other commanders arranged themselves in two parallel rows so that anyone who wished an audience with her had to walk between them. Eragon and Arya stood on her right hand, Murtagh and Elva on her left.

Less than five minutes later, a great roar of anger erupted from the eastern edge of the camp. The storm of jeers and insults grew louder until a single Kull entered their view, walking toward Nasuada while a mob of the Varden peppered him with taunts. The ram held his head high and bared his yellow fangs, but did not otherwise react to the abuse directed at him. He was a magnificent specimen, eight and a half feet tall, with strong, proud—if grotesque—features, thick horns that spiraled all the way around, and a fantastic musculature that made it seem he could kill a bear with a single blow. His only clothing was a knotted loincloth, a few plates of crude iron armor held together with scraps of mail, and a curved metal disk nestled between his two horns to protect the top of his head. His long black hair was in a queue.

As Eragon stood beside Nasuada he couldn't help but admire the Urgal's courage in confronting an entire army of enemies along and unarmed. When the Urgal stopped before the eaves if the pavilion, not daring to come any closer Nasuada had her guards shot for quiet to settle the crowd. Everyone looked at the Urgal, wondering what he would do next.

The Urgal lifted his bulging arms towards the sky, inhaled a mighty breath and then opened his maw and bellowed at Nasuada. In an instant, a thicket of swords pointed at the Kull, but he paid them no attention and continued his ululation until his longs were empty. Then he looked at Nasuada, ignoring the hundreds of people who longed to kill him. "What treachery is this, Lady Nightstalker? I was promised safe passage. Do humans break their words so easily?"

Trying to clear some confusion, Eragon bent down to whisper to Nasuada, "Don't take offense. This is how they greet their war chiefs. The proper response is to then butt heads, but I don't think you want to try that."

She nodded, and then she said to the Kull and also to her men beyond, "The Varden are not liars like Galbatorix and the Empire. Speak your mind; you need fear no danger while we hold council under the conditions of truce."

The Urgal grunted and raised his head even higher in a gesture of friendship. "I am Nar Garzhvog of the Bolvek tribe. I speak for my people." It seemed as if he chewed on each word before spitting it out. "Urgals are hated more than any other race. Elves, dwarves, humans all hunt us, burn us, and drive us from our halls."

"Not without good reason," pointed out Nasuada.

Garzhvog nodded. "Not with reason. Out people love war. Yet how often are we attacked just because you find us as ugly as we find you?" At this, Eragon chuckled lightly and even Arya had a faint smile on her face. He never did see it that way. "We have thrived since the fall of the Riders. Our tribes are now so large; the harsh land we live in can no longer feed us."

"So you made a pact with Galbatorix."

"Aye, Lady Nightstalker. He promised us good land if we killed his enemies. He tricked us, though. His flame-haired shaman, Durza, bent the minds of our war chiefs and forced our tribes to work together, as is not our way. When we learned this in the dwarves' hollow mountains, the Herndall, the dams who rule us, sent my brood mate to Galbatorix to ask why he used us so." Garzhvog shook his head. "She did not return. Our finest rams died for Galbatorix, and then he abandoned us like a broken sword. He is drajl and snake-tongued and a lack-horned betrayer. Lady Nightstalker, we are fewer now, but we will fight with you if you let us."

"What is the price?" asked Nasuada. "Your Herndall must want something in return."

"Blood. Galbatorix's blood. And if the Empire falls, we ask that you give us land, land for breeding and growing, land to avoid more battles in the future."

Despite the opposition that Murtagh and her commanders had, Nasuada briefly glanced at Eragon and he nodded a small inclination of his head. She again lifted her voice, "Very well, Nar Garzhvog. You and your warriors may bivouac along the eastern flank of our army, away from the main body, and we shall discuss terms of our pact."

"Ahgrat ukmar," growled the Kull, clapping his fists to his brow. "You are a wise one Herndall, Lady Nightstalker."

"Why do you call me that?"

"Herndall?"

"No, Nightstalker?"

Garzhvog made a rut-rut sound that Eragon interpreted as laughter. "Nightstalker is the name we gave your sire because of how he hunted us in the dark tunnels under the dwarf mountain and because of the color of his hide. As his cub, you are worthy of the same name." Instead of turning to leave, he remained where he was which prompted a question from Nasuada.

"Is there something else you wish to discuss with me?"

"No but with your rider, Lady Nightstalker." There was a ripple of movement as everyone turned their gaze to Eragon who was staring at the Kull with interest. Nasuada nodded and motioned for Eragon to speak.

"And what is it that you wish to speak with me about, Garzhvog?" Eragon asked.

"My tribe and I," he began his head held high, "We are honored to have the chance to battle alongside such a mighty warrior, and one who has done so much for us, Firesword."

Eragon frowned, "What do you mean? I have killed scores of your kin."

"By killing Durza, you freed us from his control. We are in your debt Firesword. None of our rams will challenge you, and if you visit our halls, you and the dragon, Flametongue, will be welcomed as no outsiders ever before."

He had not expected such a response from the Kull, lifting his head high in a gesture of respect Eragon said, "You honor me so, Nar Garzhvog. I won't forget. And if the Empire falls, then I would like to visit your halls one day."

The Kull nodded and with that he turned on his heel and strode out of camp. Standing Nasuada proclaimed, "Anyone who attacks the Urgals shall be punished as if he attacked a fellow human. See that word of this is posted in every company."

No sooner had she finished than Eragon noticed King Orrin approaching at a quick pace, his cape flapping about him. When he was close enough, he cried, "Nasuada! Is it true you met with an Urgal? What do you mean but it, and why wasn't I alerted sooner? I don't—"

He was interrupted as a sentry emerged from the ranks of gray tents, shouting, "A horseman approaches from the Empire!"

In an instant, King Orrin forgot his argument and joined Nasuada as she hurried toward the vanguard of the army, followed by at least a hundred people. Rather than stay among the crowd, Eragon as well as Arya and Murtagh pulled themselves on their dragons allowing them to carry them to their destination.

When they halted at the ramparts, trenches, and rows of sharpened poles that protected the Varden's leading edge, Eragon saw a lone soldier riding at a furious clip across the bleak no-man's-land. The soldier reined in his stallion some thirty yards away from the breastwork. "By refusing King Galbatorix's generous terms of surrender, you choose death as your fate. No more shall we negotiate. The hand of friendship has turned into the fist of war! If any of you still hold regard for your rightful sovereign, the all knowing, all-powerful King Galbatorix, then flee! None may stand before us once we set forth to cleanse Alagaesia of every miscreant, traitor, and subversive." Eragon sat bored as he listened to the soldier's long rant. That was until he decided to throw a severed head of one of the Varden's envoys at them.

And then it was Eridor to his surprise, who decided the man's fate by burning him alive. He glanced at Arya and she merely shrugged. The Varden cheered Eridor's accomplishment. Even Nasuada allowed a small smile before she clapped her hands. "They will attack at dawn, I think. Eragon, gather Du Vrangr Gata and prepare yourself for action. I will have orders for you within the hour." Taking Orrin by the shoulder, she guided him back toward the center of the compound saying, "Sire, there are decisions we must make. I have a certain plan, but it will require…"

Let them come,

Saphira said. The tip of her tail twitched as she nudged Eridor with her snout. The emerald dragon blinked at her. They will all burn.

That night as he'd done all sorts of orders that Nasuada had sent him, Eragon had made sure to find his parents before he fighting began to make sure that they were safe. He couldn't risk his mother's safety especially not with her with child. His father had dutifully stayed by her side, promising to make sure that no harm would come to her. And though he ached to put Rosalie and Desdemona on guard duty, he knew it would irk them to no end.

The sky pitch black over the Burning Plains, Eragon had found Arya waiting silently with Eridor for the battle to begin. She stood detached from the rest of the Varden's company, Eragon made his way over to her. The clanking of his armor drew her stare as well as Saphira's loud thuds. Both dragons, like Eragon and Arya, were armored for battle. "Anxious?" asked Eragon as he stopped before her.

She shook her head, her long tresses shifting as she did so. "Not quite," the two of them turned to stare out over the Burning Plains and what would be their battlefield tomorrow morning. "How do you feel about Nasuada's pact with the Urgals?"

"She did it for the sake of the Varden and for that I commend her," said Arya simply. "In war, a leader cannot simply do what the masses believe to be right but what they believe to be in the best interest of their subjects. And she'd performed that part dutifully."

He nodded, "Are you prepared for dawn to come? Or do you need more time?" asked Eragon as an afterthought.

Arya's eyes twinkled as she held his gaze knowing that he was hinting at the fact that she always needed a decent amount of time for preparation. As he stared at her emerald eyes barely visible in the dim light of the campfires, he felt his tenderness for Arya burst forth. Ever since their union he found himself in her company constantly, something he'd grown used to and fond of. And even though he knew that she was a proud warrior, he wanted to protect her. Though he didn't dare voice that thought out loud knowing that it would only cause to anger her. Reaching forward he gently brushed a lock of hair out of her face inhaling the fragrance of crushed pine needles that refreshed his mind.

As the two of them stood there a harsh wail that pierced the air caused them to start. What was that? Saphira raised her head searching for the disruption.

It comes from the Empire's camp.

Then the volume of cries increased until he was sure that the entire camp of the Varden could hear it as well. "What has happened?" Arya murmured, her head tilted to the side in slight annoyance at the piercing wails.

"If I were to guess correctly, I would say that Angela's brews of poisons are responsible for this," said Eragon as he tried to ignore the wails. "There's always something about her that you've to watch for."

Arya nodded. "It is an underhanded act but much needed if we are to prevail in this battle." Her lips were set into a thin line. Eragon nodded and the two of them waited with the dragons until the first rays of dawn came. But before they did, Eragon had reached forward to give Arya a chaste kiss.

"May Tamerlein win you much glory, Arya."

Her eyes were soft as they gazed up at him, her hand come to rest on the side of his face. "And may you bring us victory, Eragon."

He nodded leaning into her hand as they waited for the signal to break and face the early dawn that brought with it a momentous battle. Fate was converging on them.

Once again Merry Christmas everyone! And to all a good night :)

P.S. I dutifully stayed away from beer but I had a nice touch of a rather delightful bottle of wine...