The wind was in his hair as Jarvis walked through the streets of Feinster. The Varden had picked up their tent stakes and moved into the city, the leadership commandeering the Castle and moving their own soldiers into abandoned homes. All around him there was a beehive of activity, men carrying away debris and making the streets passable for horse traffic. As the assassin climbed the stone steps up to the palace troops swarmed around him, moving crates of food and supplies in and out. After a few more turns and a long flight of stairs Jarvis came to the drawing room, a private chamber off of the second floor that was likely used to entertain royal guests. A small library of books lined the walls and Arien had been quite excited when Jarvis revealed this find to her. She had been deep in one thing or another pulled from those shelves ever since. Jarvis knew his letters but there had not been much in books that interested him. As he entered Arien looked up from an ornate desk, dominated by a large sheet of parchment.

"Jarvis, come look at what I found in the drawers here."

Jarvis strode over to the table and looked over her shoulder. A map of Alagesia lay before them, all the rivers and settlements marked in painstaking detail, it was a very complete version.

"That's quite something."

"Isn't it? Look, here's us over here."

The elf laid a slender finger on a dot marked "Feinster" in dark curving script. Jarvis's eye roamed the map, and alight upon another dot marked "Melian",

"And there's where I grew up."

Arien followed his finger and considered the dot. She was silent for a moment and then looked up at Jarvis.

"Would you like to see it again?"

"What do you mean?"

The elf bit her lower lip and looked pensive

"What is it?"

"I've been thinking..."

"Yeah?"

"I want to see my homeland. I'm getting older bit by bit and I still haven't laid eyes on those trees in years."

"Will the Varden release you? Shouldn't you ask them first?"

"That's the thing, I don't think they will. So I'm just going to leave and I want you to come with me."

Jarvis's eyebrows furrowed

"Come with you?"

"Yes, It's perfect! You're not saying you like it here all of a sudden are you?"

"No, no, of course not."

"Well then come with me! We can see your family again, you told me you haven't talked in years!"

It was Jarvis's turn to look uncomfortable

"Well, there's a good reason for that you know."

"And that is?"

"It's not-, well..., they just don't really like me. I'm-, what I do isn't popular with anyone, least of all my family. I'll come with you, but I need some time to think it over."

"Excellent!"

The elf jumped up from the table and threw her arms around him. Jarvis reddened a little, but smiled all the same. Arien pulled away and gave him a stern look.

"Only, don't tell anyone okay? Not a soul. We could be in a lot of trouble for leaving without permission."

Jarvis gave her a quizzical look

"Who would I tell?"

"I don't know, just don't mention it to anyone. Alright?"

"Yes, of course."

"Good. Now we need to think about food. We aren't going to last long traveling across the Hadarac Desert without provisions. I'll see what I can round up from the ration kitchens."

The elf walked out of the room with her characteristic feline grace, humming a strange melody under her breath.

***

She returned a few hours later, her arms laden with a bundle of food filched from the kitchen. Jarvis's eyes opened a little wider.

"How...?"

"I told them I was bringing it out to the soldiers on the battlements."

Jarvis shook his head, grinning.

"And you elves are supposed to be the epitome of manners."

"Only when necessary."

The two spent the rest of the day packing and preserving the food in rucksacks. Arien set the date to leave for the next night, and they waited. All the next day they barely saw each other. Jarvis was sent out into the city to help with the repairs and population control, as a slow trickle of people were returned to their homes and attempted to go about their life, re-opening stalls and salvaging destroyed inventory. Arien had been running messages for the better part of the day, sprinting over the hot ground to give the men their marching orders from Nasuada. Jarvis returned to their quarters late in the afternoon to find Arien rolling up the map they had been looking at earlier. A second bag was next to her and she was placing books from the library shelves around her.

"What are you packing all that for? We can't take books, they'll just weigh us down."

Arien placed the last item delicately into the bag and set it next to the rucksack

"Some of these tomes are elvish. They belong to our people, not on some human shelf, collecting dust and impressing the occasional diplomat. They are things of knowledge, not idle tokens."

Jarvis located his rucksack and peeked inside. After rummaging through, his puzzlement growing deeper by the moment, he looked up.

"Uh, Arien, there's no meat. How are we supposed to survive a crossing of the largest desert in the land on nothing but vegetables and bread?"

"That's not all I put in there, there should be some mushrooms in a package at the bottom."

"Yes, I understand that, my original question stands. Why is the meat gone?"

"Elves don't eat meat. I didn't have time to think about your dietary preferences, I was a little more concerned about getting caught, if you don't mind."

They ate a short, cold meal by candlelight and retired to their beds to wait. Jarvis lay on his bed, feet crossed, his back propped up by the bulging rucksack. The elf sat on the next bed, her foot taping nervously. The minutes stretched into hours, and finally when he thought he could take no more, Arien nodded to him and they stood. The corridor was quiet and dark when the two stepped out. An icy draft blew past, wending its way down the hall, making Jarvis shiver and pull his cloak tighter around him. As silently as they could they descended the stair case into the dining hall. The great oak table was scattered with utensils and silverware, and some of the chairs lay on the ground around it. Arien stepped towards the doorway and opened it, peeking out. She motioned to Jarvis the all clear and they crept into the lavishly decorated throne room. Two chairs were positioned up above, red carpeted steps leading down to the next set of doors and the castle entrance beyond. The velvet-soft material muffled their footsteps as two shadows crouch-walked to the next door. Jarvis fumbled for the handle in the dark, pulling it open slightly. He stopped as light spilled through the crack and waited a few seconds in tense silence. He could hear a faint sound of breathing in the other room, and slowly edged his head to the crack to look. A candle was burning low in its holder on the wall, and he could see the back of a wooden chair and a soldier, his chest rising and falling softly. The two entered the room and closed the door behind them. The antechamber was a long room with a few doors on either side. Jarvis immediately crossed the room to the large double doors that exited into the courtyard. Two windows set into the wall bathed the room in pale moonlight. Arien reached out a hand to the large metal latch that was extended across the door and began to pull it back. The thing immediately protested and for a split second there was a resounding screech of rusty metal. They both winced and the guard shifted in his sleep. Arien shook her head and looked around for another way out. A paned window stood slightly ajar on one side, left unlocked by some careless servant. Arien motioned Jarvis to the window and after a few hand motions he nodded and put his back to the wall, extending his hand to make a foothold. The elf boosted up and grabbed the window sill, her slender arms hoisting her up onto it. She pivoted around and held out a hand to Jarvis. At that moment one of the many doors opened and a maid bearing a candle bustled out, muttering to herself. She spotted the two, and the sleeping guard and froze. For half a second Jarvis watched the gears in her head work furiously, her mouth falling slightly open. Then she dropped the candle and ran out of the room.

"Intruders in the castle! Wake up!"

The guard sitting in the chair jolted awake and drew his blade.

"Hey! What do you think-"

The assassin did not wait for him to finish, but rather turned and launched himself off of one foot, throwing a punch that collided with the mans unarmored temple, cutting him off midsentence. He dropped his blade and fell to the floor clutching his head. Jarvis jumped on him and delt him several more blows to the jaw, stopping once the man fell into unconsciousness. Quickly he turned and ran back to where Arien was franticly holding out her hand. Jarvis grabbed it and after a few long seconds he managed to join her on the cramped windowsill. She pushed the window outward and slid out of it. Jarvis turned and pushed his body out of the building, until only his fingers held the ledge, and then let go, bracing his legs. He fell a little longer than expected, and his feet flew out from under him once he landed, throwing him sideways into the dirt. Quickly he picked himself up and turned, expecting to see Arien standing behind him, impatient. Instead the flat side of a sword smacked him straight in the face and he fell back onto the ground, two more soldiers jumping on him and beating him into submission. He struggled to get free and on his feet, but the soldiers clung to him, throwing him back down each time he tried. Finally he gave up and lay still. The men pushed him onto his knees and tied his hands behind him. The blood pounded in his ears and he heard another scuffle next to him. Arien was laying into the soldiers closest to her, punch and kicking furiously as they tried to subdue her. Eventually they managed to overpower her and tied her hands, setting the panting elf next to Jarvis. The men took their rucksacks which had detached during the struggle.

"Look, there's food in 'ere! Tons of it!"

"This ones full of books."

One of the men bent down and grabbed the assassin by the hair.

"Making off with valuables are we? That's a hanging offense in a time of war, Nasuada's orders."

"Let's get them back inside."

The two were lead back into the castle. Light were now on and some more maids were gathered in the hallway, staring at the two as the soldiers marched them past. Jörmundur was waiting in the throne room, flanked by more guards. He looked a little sleepy, but when Arien and Jarvis were hauled into the room his eyes flashed with anger. They were pushed back down to their knees, and Jarvis could feel blade tips pressing into the small of his back. One soldier emptied the rucksacks onto the ground in front of Jörmundur. For a long moment there was silence. Jörmundur bent and picked up a book, brushing fragments of lettuce off of it.

"Food, stolen from the mouths of others. Information, taken as if it was your birthright. I gave you my trust and you stabbed me in the back. I got you out from under your mothers thumb, I gave you shelter with the Varden, I even gave you a valuable post, and this is how you repay me? By deserting your post to run off somewhere? How do I know you aren't going to go straight to Galbatorix and tell him everything you know?"

Arien looked shocked

"I would never betray the Varden!"

"You already have. And you-"

Jörmundur turned to Jarvis, his eyes boring holes into the assassin.

"You are a snake. I wouldn't be surprised if you put her up to this, although that doesn't speak much for her character if it is true. Regardless, you have worn out your already tenuous welcome here. Take them to the holding cell until morning, I will decide what to do with them by then."

Jarvis and the elf were roughly hauled to their feet and shoved down a side passageway.

(A/N: More to come, don't touch that dial!)