*I do not own the Inheritance Cycle…Also, squirrels.*

A Change of Scenes

Nasuada ran a hand through her hair, sighing as she did so. She hadn't gotten a wink of sleep these past days because of all the stress. Now, as a result, there were dark bags under eyes betraying her. Jörmunder had seen them, and suggested she get some sleep, but Nasuada refused. The Empire hadn't attack in over a forte night, and she was getting suspicious. She had gathered her council to plan for a surprise attack, but as more time passed, it seemed like it was all a waste of time. Now was not the time to sleep, but Nasuada knew that if she didn't get any soon, she would fall over from exhaustion.

Quietly, she slumped in her chair, and rested her eyes. The next thing she knew, she was gently being shaken awake by Jörmunder. She blinked blearily at him before letting out an expansive yawn that cracked her jaw.

"Jörmunder…?" Nasuada questioned sleepily. "How long have I been asleep for?"

Said man tensed up. "Well, let me just say good morning, My Lady."

Nasuada sat up quickly, only to get hit with a wave of dizziness. Jörmunder put a steadying hand on her arm.

"Why did you not wake me up sooner?" Her voice held a slight edge to it, but had yet to rise up in anger.

He sucked in a breath. "I had thought since you seemed under so much pressure, to allow you to sleep and rest your mind somewhat. A rested body means a rested mind, My Lady…" Jörmunder trailed off, somewhat afraid of his leader's reaction.

Nasuada put both hands on her face, and replied in a muffled manner, "Jörmunder…while I am grateful that you would take it upon yourself to insure that I get enough sleep, I would rather insure the safety of the Varden before I do so." She removed her hands, and stood up. "Now, report. What is our position, total count of soldiers and food supply?" Authority radiated off the Varden leader.

Jörmunder stood up straight. "As of now, My Lady, we are still marching to Dras-Leona with 65, 768 soldiers who are all battle-ready; 1,347 soldiers are still in healing tents. Once we have successfully captured Dras-Leona, we will take in any soldiers willing to help. Our food supply will only last a month and a half if we ration it out correctly."

Nasuada looked Jörmunder up and down. "Is that all, Jörmunder?" She questioned.

He bowed low. "Yes, My Lady."

"Very well, then." She plopped herself on her chair and sighed heavily. "I have had enough formalities to last a lifetime, Jörmunder."

"Quite." He agreed.

She waved her arm to the seat across from her. "Please, have a seat. I'll go make us some tea." She stood and went to a small stove.

Jörmunder took a seat beside Nasuada's. "How have you been aside from all the stress from the Varden?"

She hesitated before answering. "Nothing aside from the usual…although," Nasuada looked up from the boiling kettle and let out a deep breath. "I just wish my father was here to help me. He was always in control and…I just miss him so much."

She let out a small tear, but immediately whipped it off. She had to be the stone pillar of strength for her people; that meant not showing an ounce of weakness.

Jörmunder got up slowly and gently put a comforting hand on Nasuada's shoulder. She in turn spun around and clenched onto the fabric of his shirt tightly and buried her head in his chest. Surprised at the show of affection, Jörmunder awkwardly put his arms around her and patted her back.

"There, there, Nasuada. Just let it all out," he said soothingly. His shirt soon became wet, but he didn't mind. Keeping one's emotions inside you could be dangerous; so he allowed her to let all her pent up emotions to be free.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "This must be extremely awkward for you." She then laughed bitterly. "To see the Varden's leader so broken and crying all over you can't be good for an image of a strong leader."

"Everyone has their moments, and you're no different," he said softly. "Come, everyone is waiting in the war tent for you. Wash yourself up and drink some tea." Jörmunder smiled at her and made to leave.

"Wait…" Nasuada called out.

Jörmunder turned around and raised an eyebrow. "Yes, My Lady…?"

She smiled at him and quietly said, "Thank you…I don't know where I'd be without you keeping this head of mine on my shoulders."

He chuckled softly. "You're quite welcome, Nasuada." Jörmunder turned again, opening the tent flap and exited.

Nasuada shook her head slightly before going back to the now cooled tea.

Deep underground a man guffawed loud and evil. "Yes, everything is coming into place. Very soon, I will take back what was once mine and rule everything. The old fool won't even know what hit him." He chuckled once more before looking down at a small white oval. He caressed its smooth surface before placing it on a small pedestal under a shaft of light.

"Just a little more, and you will be the key to it all."

The man smiled, showing crooked, yellow teeth.

Eragon quickly shoved the now dead Trianna off his body and went inside Arya's tent. It looked like a tornado had ransacked everything inside. Papers were strewn about, clothing flung every which way, and fairths broken and blank.

He growled angrily. I wish I could have killed Trianna myself.

Quickly, he made his way to the back of the tent where he found the real Arya tied up with a gag in her mouth. She was probably drugged so she wouldn't be able to use magic to escape, he thought.

"Arya," he whispered. When she didn't respond he shook her shoulder gently and again called her name. Eyes slowly fluttered before opening to reveal dull emerald. Arya squinted at him and squeezed her eyes shut as if in pain.

Eragon sighed. "I'm going to have to pick you up so I can untie you, alright?"

After a pause, Arya nodded her consent. Slowly, he put his hands under her shoulders and another under her knees, and lifted her up. Eragon walked over to Arya's bed and set her down gently. Taking out a knife, he cut the ropes binder her feet and hands, lastly cutting away the gag.

Arya rubbed her sore joints, quietly thanking Eragon. He sat down next to her and took her small hands in his larger ones.

"Waíse heil," he muttered.

Arya sighed exasperatedly. "You don't have to do that, Eragon." For once he didn't answer and kept concentrating on healing her wrists.

"I know you've been drugged," he mumbled. "Done. Give me your ankles." Eragon looked up when he realized she wasn't going to do it.

"What if there was a surprise attack from the Empire and you couldn't even walk, let alone fight?"

Arya just pouted and relinquished her ankles, setting them on his thighs lightly. Again, he muttered "Waíse heil."

"Now, tell me what happened." Eragon set her ankles down and turned to Arya fully

Arya sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly. "I was going to look for a certain soldier…"

*Keep on reading.*