Back by popular demand, I bring the sequel to my last story! Okay so I only had one review, but after looking over some new material I have found inspiration yet again.
I do not own any of the marvelous characters of Eragon but I really wish I did.
So here we go!
Why wouldn't it just leave him alone?
Eragon's eyes flickered open as his mind quickly reached out to contact Saphira and once again regain the only comfort he had known on this long, endless journey.
Saphira, wake up. Where are we?
She stirred as though waking from a long, pleasant sleep. I don't know little one.
Great. That's just GREAT. Eragon felt a nervous breakdown coming.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden light in the distance that caught his attention. It was bright, its beam relentlessly pouring over Eragon until he had to shade his eyes with his hands and squint to look in that direction. What color was that? It was blue one minute then white another. Then it was yellow. He slowly lost focus, trying to figure out the pattern of the lights cycle when Saphira interrupted him.
Eragon, look away from the light. There's something about it that I just can't get by. I have a feeling something's about to –
Pain. Like that of which he had felt when colliding with the earth reimbursed itself in Eragon's body. .
Slowly, but surely his sight surroundings started to take shape. He realized the light he had been so interested in had been a candle sitting on a desk across the room. Eragon made an attempt to get up but was thrown to the ground as that wave of pain swept over him again, making him see dots. "What do you think you're doing?!" yelled an angry voice from behind him. He was suddenly and painfully lifted back onto the bed by a pair of gentle yet strong hands. It was Arya.
"How did you find me?" asked Eragon his gaze set on her beautiful facial structure. Oh how he loved her. If only she would return his love. But it could never be. She obviously wasn't interested in a Rider who nearly got himself killed every time he was sent out.
"Saphira contacted me before you guys hit the ground. She said you were in some trouble. She mentioned Murtagh and I got there as quickly as I could." she said.
"Where's Murtagh and what happened to the dragon we saw?" questioned Eragon.
"That was no dragon you saw." said Arya smiling. "That was your good friend Solebum, the werecat. He changed shape in order to scare away Murtagh long enough for help to get there. He's actually a very intelligent creature, I'll grant him that."
"Okay so I know this is a stupid question, but what happened? All I remember is some one trying to get into my thoughts then hurtling to wards the ground and seeing Murtagh laughing…or was that it?" asked Eragon stupidly.
"You pretty much covered it. You only forgot the part where you crashed into the ground and broke three ribs, your right arm, and your left leg. You've really out done yourself." said Arya, smirking.
He felt like an idiot. The one time he's finally alone with the girl he loves and he can't even injure himself the right way. If that didn't say hopeless he didn't know what did.
Saphira?
Yes.
Where are you?
Hunting. Why?
Just curious.
Well make a move! Arya's right there!
Okay, Okay! I'm working on it!
"Well, I'm glad you're alright." Arya said, while rubbing some odd smelling herbs on his arms. Eragon wondered why she didn't just use magic to heal his wounds. It was as though she was reading his thoughts. "I'm using these herbs I got from Angela to heal your bones. I used a lot of magic to go get you, so I thought it best to save some energy. Fixing your bones the old fashion way might take a little more time, but I'm sure you won't mind resting for a few days."
And she was right. A few days with Arya were exactly what Eragon wanted. He could use some time alone with her. She was easy to talk to and he had some things he needed to get off his chest.
"Only if that wouldn't impose on your plans." he replied smoothly.
"Well I hope you don't take too long to heal because as much as I want you to get better I actually do have some plans of my own." she said, a rush of color coming to her cheeks.
"Ooh. Like what? Is it those Urgals again, I could have sworn we had gotten rid of them…" pondered Eragon absently.
"Actually, Eragon. The other day in the village, I met this man, his name's not important, but anyways, he asked me if I wanted to visit the Beor Mountains with him, you know, to enjoy the scenery. I figured since I had nothing better to do I'd accept the offer." told Arya, small notes of guilt and apprehension in her voice.
Eragon's eyes stung. He felt as though his heart had been ripped out of his chest then smashed into a million tiny pieces. How could he have let this happen? She was going to be spending the next few days caring for him, not because she wanted to, but because she had to, and to top it all off he was injured, so he couldn't go off and kill the other man no matter how much he wanted.
Then it hit him. Arya was perfectly capable of using magic. She was only healing his injuries the old fashioned way because it took longer. She knew that the longer he was resting, the longer she would have to be with this mystery man, undisturbed in the mountains.
"Eragon…" she said timidly.
"What?" Eragon replied coldly.
"I have to go. I'll be back tomorrow to see how you're healing." she said, making her way for the door.
"Don't even bother he called after her. Send Angela."
But she was already out the door.
Arya.
He saw her walking along a path up in the mountains. Her long, beautiful hair gently billowing in the wind. The snow capped mountains only added to this marvelous scene. Eragon was seeing this from atop of Saphira. His focus was primarily on her. He was so tantalized by Arya that he failed to notice the man emerge from what seemed to be nowhere. She turns and greets him with a hug, then engages in a long, passionate kiss with the man Eragon so longed to be. Then he sees it, the glint of a dagger in the man's hand. As he pulls her closer as to make it seem like he wanted a tighter embrace, a scream of pain erupts from Arya as the dagger enters her unsuspecting body. Suddenly, she goes limp in his arms.
Eragon awoke with a start. Clearly frightened by his dream.
Eragon?
D-did you s-see that?
Yes little one. Arya has never mentioned another man in any of the short conversations we've had. I'm worried for her too.
You've had short conversations?
Well yes, but that's not important at the moment. She said, trying to change the subject.
This is too much. I'm in the woods trying to get to Ellesmera and then I get attacked by Murtagh. Now I'm in the middle of nowhere being cared for by Arya and I'm the last to know about her newest male infatuation.
Well when you put it like that Eragon you make it sound completely awful. It is a very unfortunate series of happenings I have to admit, but maybe you're just over analyzing it.
Yeah, the girl I love is being killed in my dreams. When my dreams are the reason I found her in the first place. So if my dreams are such wild and outlandish things then how did she end up being a real person? Answer that question, prove me wrong and I'll drop this whole thing for good.
Eragon, be reasonable. The odds of her being killed just because you dreamed it are very slim. And besides, if all of your dreams came true, you and Arya would be married by now. She added, the smallest hint of disgust in her voice.
What ever. I'm going back to bed.
Arya returned the next day and the day after that. Eragon refused to say a word to her. Each night was the same: Arya left, Eragon remained pissed off until he fell asleep, then the dream returned.
She was horrible to me! Why do I care what happens to her when she's with him.
Because you love her.
Dammit Saphira, don't do that.
I'm sorry, but you're thoughts are so loud when you're mad and you ask so many questions I know the answers to. This time the answer just kind of slipped out…
I'm sorry, but this is just so frustrating. Arya leaves for the mountains tomorrow and I'm still stuck in bed with nothing to do but be pissed at her when she's here and worry about her when she's gone!
I know Eragon.
I wish it would all just go away!!
It will with time, if you busy yourself with something else maybe you won't think about it as much…
But what?
Eragon, it's late, you need your rest if you plan to get better. We'll figure something out tomorrow.
Goodnight Saphira.
Goodnight my Rider.
Saphira…
Yes?
I love you. A wave of warmth entered their conversation.
And I you. She replied, contentment radiating from both of them as they slowly drifted to sleep.
Flying.
The cool night air rushed through his hair. It felt so good to be back out in the open. He was at the Beor Mountains. Eragon spotted a cabin, its windows lit. Silently, he flew to wards it. He landed and walked up the path towards the little cabin unsheathing Zar' roc just as a precaution. He peeked into the window and there was Arya. She was cuddled up with the new man near the fireplace. It made Eragon sick. She was asleep. Eragon moving closer to the window to get a better look slipped and landed with a thud. He peeked into the corner of the window to see the man staring back at him. Eragon took a closer look at the man. He was, indeed, handsome. He was obviously elven judging by the way his ears were pointed like Arya's. Then he felt it. The man was trying to enter his mind. He tried to block him out, but the man was too strong. Searing pain, yet again, was shredding him to pieces. The man didn't want his memories, he just wanted to cause pain. Some of the most beautiful images of Arya Eragon had ever seen were being conveyed to his mind. Eragon almost screamed from what happened next. All of the beautiful images of Arya had been replaced. In one of them Arya was covered in a series of small cuts all over her body all infected. She was dead in all of them, each displaying another demented way to kill such a beautiful woman.
Eragon tried to wake up from his dream, but it was useless. He couldn't wake up. Trapped in a nightmare. The pain grew steadily worse and the pictures became even more gruesome in detail. He was writhing on the snow covered ground in pain. Why couldn't he wake up?
He was slowly being drained of all remaining energy. He was seeing patches of grey and white. The stars of the night sky were winking down at him and slowly fading into nothing. The dark was filling his mind yet again. He couldn't breathe. His lungs felt like they were about to burst from lack of oxygen. He was on the verge of a black out. He could feel it. His mind was screaming, and the last thing he remembered crying out to anyone who would listen:
Why wouldn't it just leave him alone?
