A/N; Ugh. I have a Spanish test, a Latin test, and an English quiz tomorrow.

Haha. Just test me on all my languages. Dx

BUT, as you can tell by this author's note… there is going to be another chapter coming!

And also, before I begin, I'd like to give a shout out to my reviewers. ^^ Thank you all!

Ugh. Just a warning. Boring chapter. x.x;

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Arya continued to remain locked in her room. When a few timid knocks were pressed upon her door, she ignored this and continued on with her thoughts. After a while, however, the knock returned back, this time with a sense of urgency.

Once more, Arya ignored it.

Then the third time, a fist pounded on her door with a large amount of force. Deciding that whoever this was was not going to accept the fact that maybe she was not in her room, Arya crossed the room in a few paces and swiftly opened the door.

"What is it?" she asked in an icy tone, before she managed to get the full image of whom she was talking to.

A small human boy stood there, peering up at her with a pair of deep brown eyes. His hands were busy playing with the hem of his tunic as he instantly shot his gaze down to the ground. Contrary to his impatient knocking, he now looked rather afraid in delivering his message.

"What is it?" Arya repeated in a softer tone, seeing that this boy was simply frightened of her. Her gaze softened as her tone did, and a maternal sense took over that made her want to ruffle the boy's messy brown hair. She resisted, however, as she was not accustomed to such… motherly thoughts.

"B-Brom want—wishes you to accompany him in his… discussion with Deynor," the boy stammered out. From his language, it was obvious that he was trying very hard to speak in a fancy tongue in order to make a good impression upon her. "And, my lady, I was told to lead you to where they are meeting, as Brom said you were not very well acquainted with the halls." As he continued speaking, the boy gained confidence, though he did not look her in the eyes again.

"Very well then," Arya answered, her gaze still raining down on the slip of a boy.

He shuffled his feet and began walking, with Arya tailing him quickly. The two passed the moments in silence. Arya did not mind this, and if the boy wanted to talk, she concluded that he could always speak first, even though it did not seem very likely.

After a while of walking, the two reached their destination. The grandeur that they had passed had not gone unnoticed to Arya; though this grandeur failed to impress her as she was an elf, even she had to admit that a good deal of hard work had been put in to forming the intricate designs lining everywhere.

While the two of them had been walking through the area, Arya had seen but a few inhabitants wandering about the area. Those she saw were all human, and they all either ignored her, or even worse, made rude gestures in her direction. Her hands twitched to brandish her sword to show them all a lesson, but she knew that she couldn't, not if she wanted to avoid a breach of peace. Instead, she hardened her heart and her mind from the accusing glances thrown her way once the Elvin characteristics that made her up were registered clearly.

A thought kindled in Arya's mind; how was Faolin fairing in this place? She knew that though he was an elf just like her, she herself did happen to have a slight ounce more of patience.

She was not quite as worried about Glenwing, as Glenwing had an uncanny habit of charming even the most scornful crowd, whether if it was with his personality alternating between bubbly and thoughtful or his beautiful singing voice.

"Lady, you can enter now," the boy said, finally looking up at her expectantly as he stood aside from the door, allowing her a space to make her entrance. He held Arya's gaze as she blinked at him in a bemused state for a few moments before finally understanding.

Arya nodded as she took a step forward to the doorway. Just as she was about to answer, she paused and looked over her shoulder where the boy was looking at her curiously. "Thank you…?" she remarked in a questioning tone.

"Loraes, lady," the boy supplied nervously. From the look on his face, Arya deduced that he was wondering why exactly one such as her would want to know his name.

"Thank you, Loraes," Arya told him, flashing him one of her rare smiles. She reached out and touched his shoulder lightly before withdrawing. Turning her back to Loraes, she entered the room without a second glance.

Loraes flushed a deep red before darting off, not quite sure if he had truly just come in contact with an elf or if he was just simply dreaming.

Arya swept in to the room with a manner of grace, holding a regal stance. Brom, who was standing in the room as well, looked up. A genuine smile inhabited the features of his face, and he beckoned for her to sit in a seat close to him and Deynor.

Though Arya advanced toward the chair, she did not sit in it. Instead, she shook her head, declining the seat, as she preferred to stand. "Brom, Deynor," she greeted, giving a nod to both men.

"Arya Drottingu," Deynor responded, standing up and offering a formal bow in honor of her.

A smile touched Arya's lips at the prospect of Deynor's politeness to address her by her Elvin title, but she knew that formalities were not needed. "Be seated, Deynor," she proclaimed. "You need not stand for me."

"Aye, but it is the simple rule of chivalry for a man to stand whenever receiving a woman—particularly a woman bearing a high standing," Deynor answered. Even though his words could be reformed to be said in a teasing voice, Deynor said this statement with a dead serious tone.

Brom cleared his throat in an attempt to skip pleasantries. Arya flashed him a knowing glance and then looked to Deynor.

"I am not here, however, to simply exchange words on chivalry," Arya said, her chin held high as she continued. "I am here, Deynor, leader of the Varden, to represent the race of the elves who have remained so withdrawn from this resistance. I have crossed the large expanse of a desert and through these tedious mountains to be here. I now ask you something. Though I know it is not a matter of simple permission, I must ask: would you as leader of the Varden willingly accept my help in retying the bond between the elves and humans?"

Deynor thought over this question for a moment. Arya found herself growing impatient, but then reminded herself that Deynor was the leader of the Varden, and whatever he did would affect the whole entire resistance set up against Galbatorix. Therefore, Arya did have to sympathize with the man—he certainly did have a large amount of responsibility resting on his shoulders.

Arya waited for a while longer before she finally spoke again. "You need not make your decision today, Deynor," she said, and as she did so, she saw that a faint hint of relief swept across the man's face. "But, I do have a few requests," she added.

Deynor's face fell considerably, and Brom barely suppressed a chuckle.

"The clothing of choice presented to me," Arya began, and Deynor looked as if he were fighting the urge to groan. "I do not need any finery, mind you. In fact, I prefer to dress in men's clothing, and I believe that you will find that more agreeable to what you have to offer."

After watching Deynor's face for a little while longer, Arya decided to go easy on the man. "And just one other request," she said.

Deynor nodded.

"May you see to it that the boy Loraes is who you send whenever you wish to fetch me?" she asked.

This time, Deynor did not hide his emotion. He let out a sigh of relief and nodded. "That, Arya Drottingu, is something that I can assure you of," he answered with a smile.

Arya gave a slight smile back.