DISCLAIMER: The Inheritance Cycle is not owned by me. Christopher Paolini owns that universe which he created.

Edge of Oblivion

Chapter IX - Friendship

Grunting from the effort, Eragon's legs buckled and he fell onto his butt. The second level of the Rimgar still troubled him, but he had been making steady progress. Over the last few days he had made steady progress so that he was able to get through all of level one relatively simply and halfway through the second. Arven had trained him again the day after his mother had visited, and the day after that Oromis had returned. When he had asked about Glaedr, Oromis said that Saphira would begin training with him soon.

"And today, you will finally meet Glaedr," said Oromis as he walked through the many corridors of the Citadel. He continued to walk up many flights of stairs, so much so that Eragon was beginning to tire from the exertion. Finally reaching the floor they wanted, Oromis walked purposefully onwards. The elder led him through large doors big enough for Sephyr and they opened into a cavernous hold that was wide open on one end to the sky. The opening was so massive Eragon figured that five dragons of Sephyr's size could all fly in at the same time and not bump into each other.

He marveled at what it took to build such a grand room. Perhaps the dwarves had indeed helped to build the city. It certainly seemed like it.

"This, is the first level of the dragon hold of Doru Araeba. There are two more above this. Each can house up to twenty full-grown dragons. Though of course there has never been that many dragons, the Citadel was built in case such a situation were to arise," explained the elder rider, "Better to have too much space than too little."

Eragon was still taking it all in as the elder continued, "In any case, it is also easier to fly out from here as we are already at a good height. The holds are rarely used now, for we do not have the manpower to completely run the Citadel as it was meant to be run - but it is a useful space and allows riders an easy way to come and go from the Citadel without too many prying eyes watching." He paused to let Eragon continue to look around, his mind still baffled by the size of it all. "You may call Saphira to you now."

A short time elapsed before the rushing sound of her flight echoed throughout the great hold. She landed nearby and moved closer, lowering her head and greeting Oromis respectfully.

Then, as the seconds stretched on in silence, Eragon heard him. The heavy thudding of wings echoed like a slow drum beat, if that drum were several dozen feet in diamater and were being beaten upon by a giant.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Slow and steady were the beating of his wings as he slowly came into view. The sun glinted off his golden scales and the sight dazzled both Eragon and Saphira as they stared wide-eyed and in awe at the great dragon before them. His golden hue was slightly diminished as he entered the shadow of the hold, but his massive girth was still something to behold. Here was an elder dragon in all his glory, and Eragon wondered how one could fight against something so strong. With a heavy thud Glaedr landed upon the stone floor, shaking the hold with his weight.

He was as large as a hill, definitely bigger than Sephyr. He could have been twice Sephyr's size, or at least almost.

He turned his massive head, craning his neck, and eyed them both with one large golden eye.

He growled lightly as he extended his mind towards them and both were overwhelmed at the titanic size of his consciousness.

Greetings, hatchlings. I am Glaedr. His voice boomed in their heads with a heavy and commanding tone. Oromis watched their faces with a barely hidden look of amusement.

Eragon was the first to speak among the two young ones present, Greetings, Glaedr-elda. My name is- but he did not finish as the golden dragon interrupted him.

Eragon. The name was said simply. Then Glaedr said, Your name is a great one, youngling. You have much to live up to.

The young rider acknowledged that fact for what seemed like the hundredth time. Everyone in one way or another seems to think he is destined to be as legendary as the rider who he was named after. He did not voice his concerns over such high expectations, however. At least not in front of his masters.

I only strive to perform my duties and responsibilities as a rider to the best of my abilities, he replied truthfully.

Glaedr let loose a short laugh, As you should, hatchling.

Saphira still had not spoken at that point, and Eragon could feel she was still awe-struck by the appearance of the elder dragon. He nudged her with his mind, and she finally spoke.

It is an honor to finally meet you, Glaedr-elda. I look forward to learning much from you. Her blue eyes never left his golden ones.

And it is good to meet you at last, Saphira. I hope that you shall be as magnificent as my partner-of-mind tells me you are, said Glaedr. His booming voice really made one listen to what he had to say, Eragon realized.

The young rider felt... Saphira blush? He could not say for sure, but there was a strange emotion there but thought nothing more of it as Glaedr continued to speak.

From this day forth, when I am able, I will train you Saphira. And from now on you must also share with each other what each has learned from their respective masters. You must learn to be one together, and each must have knowledge of the other, is this understood? he asked.

They both spoke in the affirmative.

Glaedr grunted, Good. And on any random day we choose we may test you to see what you have learned apart as well as from each other. Turning to Saphira the golden dragon said, Now, let us see how you fly, hatchling.

Less than two minutes later, both dragons had flown away from the hold, and as Eragon watched them he could not help but see how tiny Saphira looked compared to the massive Glaedr. He turned to his master and expressed his wonder at his dragon, and Oromis laughed lightly. Elven laughter sounded so rich and full of life, it made Eragon feel at ease and happier.

Still smiling, Oromis asked him, "Have you ever seen Umaroth, elder Vrael's dragon?"

Eragon quickly shook his head.

"I guessed as much," said Oromis, "The white dragon does not like the attention his appearance creates. He stays somewhere in the mountains of Vroengard, sometimes with Vrael even..." he trailed off, and then realizing he had not said what he had wanted to say he continued, "In any case, Umaroth is even larger than Glaedr. If you can imagine that."

Indeed Eragon found it hard to believe any dragon could be larger, though if there was any bigger dragon it would be Vrael's. He was the oldest of all the living riders after all, and thus Umaroth was the eldest of the elder dragons still alive. He wondered how the white dragon looked in the sunlight, or if it was difficult for him to hide himself at night. Then he realized that, being so massive and powerful, Umaroth need not hide from anything. Creatures hid from him.

Deciding that it was best to go on with their training at the hold instead of walking all the way down to the Training Hall, Oromis began to teach him a few more new words in the ancient language.

-xxx-

Two months passed and they were in the winter season. Since Vroengard was an island, the warmth of the sea protected them from the worst of the chills, but the temperature was still several degrees cooler than usual. Up in the clouds it was much colder still. And that was where Eragon could be found as he and Saphira flew parallel to a northeasterly wind that brought the cold from the northernmost regions of Alagaësia. He shivered as a blast of icy wind buffeted them, and Saphira struggled against the stronger push of the air.

Why are we doing this again? she snapped, tired from her exertion. She had grown even bigger, her height from the ground to the top of her back more than double Eragon already. Her entire body was also thicker with strong muscles, though she was according to Glaedr thinner than other dragons. She would need to use more of her speed, agility, and cunning than pure brute strength. One thing was clear though: she was a natural flier. She took to the air with a grace and ease that impressed even Glaedr, who had lived long enough to see many dragons.

Oromis said we must learn to ride in all conditions, Eragon reminded her as he gritted his teeth to stop them from chattering. They had been up their for what seemed like hours, though realistically probably only barely over an hour.

She growled, her wings straining to keep them flying. If she were to fly in these conditions, she would not only have to get used to them she would also need to get bigger and stronger. Glaedr, with his size and weight, could have easily weathered the high winds that buffeted her so. Saphira did her best, however.

How much longer must we stay up here? she asked as she dipped lower to escape the wrath of the ever increasingly stronger winds high above.

Eragon was not sure, but imagined that they would not have to for too much longer. He would call us if we were to return, or unless one of us was hurt of course.

As if hearing them, their master's mind touched theirs and bade them to return.

Relief washed through their link from Saphira as she descended rapidly. The winds were weaker down below, and she took comfort in their relative peacefulness. Angling towards the hold above the Citadel she landed before Oromis and Glaedr, both of whom eyed them impassively.

Eragon rubbed her back before he dismounted, sending a quick thanks to her through their link. You did well, Saphira.

Thank you. She lay down then, her body aching from her earlier exertions.

"How did it go?" asked Oromis.

"Well enough, though the winds high above were almost too strong for Saphira to overcome. We had to drop to lower elevations every now and then to catch our breath," he looked to his partner-of-mind and smiled proudly.

Oromis gave a thoughtful nod, "The environment is a tricky thing... but it is ever important to be able to adapt to your surroundings. Many a rider have been injured due to their inexperience in fighting in different weather extremes, or even while merely traveling."

Glaedr lowered his head closer to Eragon and Saphira and his voice sounded low and heavy, Indeed. Oromis and I were once caught in a fierce storm on our way back to Vroengard. Off the coast we battled against it, and even in the lower elevations the winds were powerful. One gust nearly sent me into a cliff, but thankfully we survived.

"In this instance, I advise you to rest before undertaking such efforts again. It would not do to try to battle the elements whilst you are still tired from a previous encounter," added Oromis, "Though when you are even larger and stronger, Saphira, you will have to learn to be able to work hard even through exhaustion. Eragon's life may depend on it."

Oromis dismissed them from training after that, leaping up his dragon's leg and then onto Glaedr's back with a grace and ease that only elves could have shown. Heaving his bulk into the air Glaedr let loose a low roar of farewell before he and his rider disappeared out the opening of the hold. Left to watch were the young rider and his blue dragon, both tired and thankful that the hold was rather warm even though it was open to the elements. Eragon suspected magic probably kept the temperature at a comfortable level.

"I feel like taking a nap," whispered Eragon as he sat down next to Saphira. "And I don't think I'll make it to my room. I will rest here, I think."

She looked at him and opened up one of her wings so that he could sidle up closer to her. Then rest, little one.

He murmured a thanks, already halfway asleep.

-xxx-

He awoke to find that they were not alone in the hold. About fifty meters away was a red dragon, thicker than Saphira as corded muscles bulged from its body but not as tall. His red eyes watched them closely. Next to him was his rider, the young man who had been the other new rider. Murtagh was his name, remembered Eragon.

Saphira had awoken at that point as Eragon's mind had begun to be active again and he was moving from beside her. She turned to see what he was observing and saw the red dragon and rider across from them.

Murtagh was rubbing his dragon's flank as they both observed the other rider and dragon tandem.

"Hello Murtagh," Eragon spoke out to acknowledge him.

The other rider raised a hand in greeting, "Greetings, Eragon."

The blue rider walked closer, his eyes moving between Murtagh and his dragon. He stopped a few feet away.

"Your dragon looks well," he stated, unsure of what else to say.

Murtagh nodded as he continued to scratch his dragon's red flank, "Thorn has grown since we last saw each other... and yours the same."

Eragon grinned slightly, "A pleasure to meet you formally, Thorn. My dragon's name is Saphira, and yes they have both grown considerably since last we met."

Thorn's mind briefly touched his, It is good to meet you as well, Eragon.

There was a somewhat awkward silence before Eragon spoke again, "What brings you to the hold?"

The red rider looked out of the hold, through the opening, as he responded, "We were flying around and saw this place," he waved his hand around, "and so we wished to see the hold. This is the first time we have been here."

A little surprised at that, he replied, "I only learned of this place in the past two months myself," he said, "It's larger than I would have thought it possible to build anything. I think the dwarves may have helped to build it."

It was Murtagh who smiled this time, his eyes gray eyes looking about, "This was no ordinary construction. There was a vast amount of magic involved, for sure. Thorn and I think it to be the work of dragons and their riders."

His view had merit, Eragon realized. Dragon magic was far more powerful than any individual being could ever possess, a pity though they could not wield it at will. Though he also realized how dangerous that would have been, especially for the wild dragons. Saphira agreed, though she too wished she could control magic as easily as other beings could.

Magic subject to your feelings and emotions though, Eragon told her, Seems more natural... purer even.

Murtagh spoke first this time, ending the silence that had settled once more upon them. "We saw you battling the strong winds at the ceiling of the world," he sounded a little impressed, "I have to say, Saphira is an excellent flier."

Eragon smiled as he looked at his bond-partner, "She is. Our masters tell us she is one of the best they have seen in many years." Then a thought occurred to Eragon, "How goes your training? Who are your masters?"

For the briefest moment Eragon thought he saw Murtagh's face darken and a scowl begin to form, before it disappeared as soon as it had passed over his face. He wore a neutral expression, and his eyes as always seemed guarded. "My father and his dragon, Paine, are our masters. And our training... is sufficient."

Realizing the topic was uncomfortable for Murtagh, he changed the subject to the first thing that came to mind: "Would you spar with me?" He was quite surprised that the words had left his mouth, but he did not take them back and merely waited for the other young rider to speak. He seemed to be debating within himself, perhaps with Thorn, and then he gave a small nod.

"Sure," and as he said that he took out a wooden sword from his scabbard. Eragon drew his - All novice riders had to carry with them their wooden swords wherever they went until they were granted actual blades.

They moved a little ways from their respective dragons so as to have enough room to maneuver around. Loosening their muscles, they both readied themselves and when they were finished they moved close and tapped their swords against each other once to signal the beginning of the sparring match. None wished to be the first to strike, so they moved and circled each other, watching and waiting. Eragon could tell from the way he held himself and from how he balanced upon his feet that Murtagh was a skilled warrior, and he wondered just how skilled.

It was Murtagh who took the first leap forward and attacked, his movements strong and smooth. Eragon parried him well enough and started his counter-attack. Murtagh seemed somewhat surprised as they danced back and forth, neither giving up much ground. They continued to spar for a while, and after what felt like an hour or so they still had not touched each other. They were as even as could be in terms of skill with the sword. Murtagh was impressed, and so was Eragon. They continued to circle and then Eragon launched into a complicated series of blows as he tried to attack from the oddest angles to try and surprise Murtagh, to no avail.

Murtagh replied in kind, and he too failed at landing a single hit upon Eragon. Both of them were covered with sweat and their muscles yearned to rest, but thoroughly enjoying the sparring all the same. Finally, Eragon lowered his sword and inclined his head with a newfound respect, "You are a great swordsman."

"Right back at you," the red rider replied with a grin, "I haven't fought that hard without landing a single blow in a long time."

"Perhaps," Eragon said slowly, "Perhaps we can continue to spar? It would be beneficial for both of us I think." Not to mention we would be able to get to know each other better, he added in his thoughts. He liked Murtagh, and he yearned to have a friend who he could talk to and have adventures with. Other than you, of course, he thought towards his partner-of-mind who had let him feel the small hurt that his words had brought to her. It quickly passed as she felt happy with his added words.

Murtagh sheathed his sword and scratched the side of his head, "We'll see. It will depend upon our training schedules... but I think it would be a good idea." He turned sharply to look outside, then he moved quickly to mount Thorn. "I must go. It was good to see you, Eragon, and may we cross paths soon."

Eragon finally sheathed his own sword as he watched them leave. Saphira's breath fell damp and heavy upon his head as her head hovered over his, he eyes also watching the retreating form of the red dragon and rider. Without turning he asked her, What do you think of them?

Saphira was not sure, I think that Murtagh seems nice enough. Thorn seems wary of us, but I believe it was wise to seek to continue sparring with him. Both your skills were even in terms of fighting sticks, she said, not to mention it would be good of you to have a friend, as you have said.

I only hope he feels the same, he thought.

-xxx-

Not until about three days later did they manage to see each other again. And they began at first with some small talk, though they were still not too comfortable with each other enough to openly speak. They sparred again, and as was the case the first time they were evenly matched. Too evenly matched.

After their sparring session, they sat across from each other with their respective dragons behind them. Eragon sat cross-legged, elbows on his legs while Murtagh sat with his legs to his left side, his left knee bent as he propped up the rest of his body with his right arm. For whatever reason, Eragon began to talk about the first time he went hunting. The thrill of it all and the first time he had killed a living thing and then eaten it - he conveyed that he felt as if he had already reached manhood at that point for it proved he could provide for himself.

Murtagh's eyes had alighted as he spoke, and he responded in kind but talking about his first time hunting as well. They proceeded to exchange stories of their hunts at that point, though Eragon realized he had gone out to hunt far more than Murtagh had. He knew it was because, unlike Murtagh, he had been able to go out into Alagaësia with his father and thus he was able to hunt the plentiful game in the Spine. The red rider, however, had been confined to Vroengard for all his life and though there was game to be hunted, they were not as bountiful or as large.

Still, it was nice to know they shared something in common besides their skill with a sword. They talked about their common love for hunting and of surviving out in the wild on their own for hours it seemed, and of the benefits of certain hunting styles as well as weapon types. Eragon told him of how the Spine was like and Murtagh imagined in his mind what it was like as he described it to him.

"I wish to go some day," he whispered, "Maybe we can hunt together." Those last few words were said so quietly Eragon barely heard them.

The blue rider saw that his eyes seemed to have a far away look then, and he noticed that the red rider's body had stiffened as if something troubled him. Unable to place what it was and unwilling to broach the subject, Eragon continued to talk of one particular hunt where a boar managed to nearly gore him as it surprisingly emerged from some tall grass, leaving a scar four inches long across his thigh. Thankfully, Eragon had his dagger in hand and quickly stabbed at the top of the boar's neck with one swift stroke that killed it instantly as the dagger severed its spine.

Murtagh grinned though it did not quite reach his eyes, "This has me excited to see this Spine and test myself in its wilderness. Please, let's speak no more of this for now else I end up going there tonight."

Changing the subject again, they began to talk about the Hatching Ceremony all those months ago.

"What were you thinking at the time?" asked Eragon, "How did you feel? I know that I was extremely nervous and I feared that a dragon would not hatch for me... and thankfully one did," he turned and smiled at Saphira. She sent a warm feeling through their link in response.

"I too was afraid of being rejected, that I would not be deemed worthy. But all my life," he hesitated, "All my life I have been told to be a rider. I had no choice in the matter, and my father impressed upon me the fact that I would one day become one. So while I did fear rejection, a part of me felt that a dragon would indeed hatch for me and so I would not say I worried as much as you had." This time he looked at Thorn after he spoke and Eragon had no doubts that he was replying much in the same fashion as Saphira had. "Still, I felt relief when Thorn hatched. I fear what my father would have done had I been rejected." His eyes widened as he realized he had spoken too much of his mind, and Eragon was quick to note that but he did not pursue it.

An uneasy silence fell, before Murtagh stood up and stretched. "I must go now. I... enjoyed speaking with you, Eragon. Let us try to meet again soon." He walked over and stretched out his hand, which Eragon took.

He's a complicated one, isn't he? he thought towards Saphira, who let a low rumble emanate from her chest.

Most beings on two-legs are, she offered, But I agree. There is far more to him than he lets on... and I wonder how his father treats him. He seems fearful of displeasing him.

Eragon shrugged, I would be afraid of disappointing my father as well...

But I doubt your fear is the same as his, and his father is not yours, Saphira pointed out.

True. He thought for a moment, But it is best not to push him, I think. He will open up to me on his own.

Saphira swiveled her head and a large blue eye gazed into his own brown ones.And if he does, what will you do?

Without hesitating he replied, I would help him.

Satisfied with his answer, she stood on all fours and extended to her full height as she stretched. I am hungry, so I must hunt. You should feed yourself, I can feel your hunger through our link.

Eragon smiled, Always look it for me, Saphira. Even when I'm not in imminent danger.

Always, she said firmly before leaping into the air and flying out of the opening of the hold and into the darkening skies.

Descending the many steps to the level where the dining hall was, he saw that there were more people there. A few riders were presently eating, and one of them he realized was the rider Kristoff who he had sat next to in Irelia for the Emperor's birthday. He was tall, at a little over six feet, with a lean but muscular physique. He had short black hair that spiked up near the front and thick black eyebrows that hung over his silver eyes. He too was a senior rider, slightly older than Brom. His mouth spread into a wide smile as he saw Eragon enter and he beckoned for the young rider to sit with him

Two other riders were at his table and he was quickly introduced to them: Glaerun and Hirador. Glaerun was an elf with dark green eyes and a tattooed face of different symbols in dark green ink, among the designs were different sized stars. He did not show any emotions at meeting him, as most elves were won't to do. Hirador was a gruff human, a thick curly beard made him look almost dwarven except he was as tall as Eragon. His arms were thick and his chest and shoulders broad, and his forearms were quite hairy. He had friendly light blue eyes and a wide smile of his own as he met Eragon, and a booming voice similar to Glaedr's, but of course not as deep or as powerful in tone.

Kristoff clasped his hand in a firm grip as he finished inroducing Eragon to the others. "Well, Eragon. It is nice to see you are one of us now. How goes your training?"

"It goes well, Kristoff-elda."

"Oromis treating you right, eh?" Hirador asked, "The old elf is quite the teacher, so I hear."

Eragon confirmed as much.

"Pity I didn't have him as my own master when I trained, but my own master was more than exceptional in his own right. Though he did not care as much as Oromis does about his students," Hirador continued as he chuckled, brushing off some food that had gotten stuck in his thick beard.

Glaerun shot a glance at Hirador and his eyes narrowed, "Master Roppen is a most excellent teacher, and you should not disrespect him so."

Hirador reached a hand over and grabbed the elf's shoulder, "Relax, Glaerun! I meant no offense. I merely wished to convey my observations of our master's difference in teaching style with regards to Oromis."

The elf said nothing, but he looked away seemingly satisfied as the other rider let go of his shoulder.

The three senior riders proceeded to speak about things that were happening in the Empire and Alagaësia in general. Eragon did not interrupt, merely glad of the company for dinner as well as the knowledge he was gaining of current events. Apparently the Emperor was ill, though he was expected to recover fully. Also, there were apparently more Urgal raids than usual and the riders would have to confront them about it soon. They then spoke of the Shade and how its activities seemingly had stopped recently. Though Eragon was vaguely aware that there was some kind of evil being walking around the Empire he did not know until then that it was a Shade.

From what he had heard and read of Shades, they were twisted creatures who loved pain and destruction. He shivered involuntarily at the thought that one was running rampant throughout Alagaësia. It was said that rivers of blood flowed where a Shade passed. He began to wonder why it suddenly stopped, and thought that maybe it had been destroyed.

After a time Glaerun and Hirador excused themselves as they went to retire, stating that they felt weary. Eragon was about to do the same until Kristoff turned to him and said, "Come, let us walk."

Having nothing better to do and intrigued by what the senior rider had to say, he obliged and followed him through the corridors of the Citadel. They emerged out into the cold night, the chilling wind blowing from the north. Clouds obscured the sky, and a faint glow behind one area was the only hint of the moon's presence. They walked in silence the whole time, with Eragon's thoughts turning to why exactly Kristoff had wished to be accompanied. He held his tongue however, knowing that there was a purpose to this walk of theirs.

Finally, as they were crossing the courtyard the senior rider finally broke his silence, "Would you like to see her, Eragon?" he asked with a smile stopping mid stride as he turned to face the young man.

Confused by the question, he replied, "I don't think I understand, Kristoff-elda.."

"The elf, Eragon. The elf... what was her name? Ah, yes... Arya."

The very mention of the name made his heart skip a beat.

Kristoff's smile grew and his eyes gleamed with amusement, "I remember you had your eyes on her the entire feast the night of the Emperor's birthday. It was quite... amusing. I could see then that you like her and I thought perhaps I can help you to at least to see her again."

A hot flush rushed to his cheeks as his gaze drifted down to the ground in embarrassment. He remembered that night well. At first he was hesitant to speak, afraid of what he might say. A part of him thought this was too good to be true. He had been thinking of her a lot lately, and would relish the opportunity to see her again. Especially now as a rider.

"Why? How..?" he struggled to say.

Kristoff wrapped his arm around his shoulder and brought him in close in a brotherly manner, "The how? Well you just let me handle that. I will tell you when I am ready. As for why... let's just say that as a man who has yet to find love, I find it my quest to help those around me find it. For in doing so I believe that perchance the fates would smile upon me and grant me that which I seek... aaand I happen to like you and your family." He let go of the young rider and stepped away, though he clapped him on the shoulder. "So what is your answer, Eragon Bromsson?"

"Yes! That would be... most appreciated if you could make it happen." There was no hesitation in his reply and that was not lost on the senior rider.

"A word of caution though: As I have said before, dealing with elves is quite different and oft times difficult..." Bidding him goodbye, Kristoff left him standing practically dumbstruck over what happened the last few minutes.

He felt a great amusement flow through his link with Saphira and in the back of his mind could hear her stifling a full-blown laugh. Oh, Eragon, she said. He paid no attention to her however as his imagination began to run through multiple scenarios of his seeing Arya again. He would spend the rest of the night, as he lay in bed, thinking of that moment.

-xxx-

Saphira watched as Eragon managed to complete the second level of the Rimgar. He had kept at it, undeterred by his consistent inability to finish because he was seeing small results with each passing day. His muscles had strained and protested, but his will pulled him through in the end and he breathed a sigh of relief. Happiness coursed through him, and Saphira let him know she was impressed.

Your ability to stretch has improved, young one. All shall know of your great flexibility! They shall call you, Eragon the Limber! And all shall tremble before your ability to touch your toes! said the blue-scaled dragonness, her words dripping with sarcasm.

Don't be ridiculous, Eragon glared at her as best he could though he grimaced at the name. He would not like to be called Eragon the Limber. Not a chance.

Oromis had gone again, to where and for what purpose he did not know. Arven had given him the day off for she also had some matters to attend to and would be unable to train him. Thus he was left to his own devices - and Saphira, of course. Up in the dragon hold, Eragon decided was the best place to be. Not to mention he was meeting Murtagh there.

Sure enough, the flapping of wings and a heavy thud later announced the arrival of Murtagh and Thorn. They looked slightly worse for wear, and Eragon questioningly looked at him.

Murtagh shook his head, "I just had difficulty sleeping last night," he explained hastily, "And Thorn was up with me to try and help me to rest." Eragon did not quite buy it, but he did not press the matter.

They sparred again, but Eragon noticed he was winning slightly and he wondered if it was because Murtagh was distracted. Lowering his sword, he finally asked what was wrong.

"Nothing!" he said with irritation as he launched himself at Eragon again, making him jump back as he whipped his sword up to defend himself from the sudden onslaught. Though Murtagh's face held no emotion, his eyes shone with such anger that Eragon wondered what could have pissed him off so much.

Tiring, Murtagh finally lowered his sword and then sheathed it. His breathing was fast and shallow as he wiped a hand down his face in frustration as well as to get the sweat away from his eyes. He sat down beside Thorn, his back leaning against his dragon, and said nothing as Eragon followed suit and sat next to Saphira.

You should ask him again, she prodded him.

Eragon disagreed. No, I shall wait until he is ready to speak with me. She made no response to that as they watched Murtagh seemingly wrestling with something that troubled him.

Eventually, Eragon could no longer wait as his patience ran thin: "Murtagh," and as he said the name the rider's gaze fixated upon him sharply, "Tell me what bothers you."

He frowned, "Why? It is of no consequence to you."

"Because I would like to help if I can," offered the blue rider with as much honesty as he could convey.

Murtagh studied him for a while, his eyes never leaving Eragon until he felt as if they were in some kind of staring match. Then Murtagh broke the contact and looked away, "You cannot help me," he spoke softly.

"You're right," and Murtagh snapped his gaze back at Eragon as he said those words, "I cannot help you because I do not know what troubles you. If you would only tell me, Murtagh, I would gladly help you."

"Do not worry about it."

"I am trying not to, but it's hard to ignore when whatever it is... it distracts you so."

Murtagh raised his hands in the air and shrugged his shoulders, "What do you want from me, Eragon? I do not like to share my thoughts, let the matter rest!" Thorn looked at Eragon with sad eyes as his rider spoke.

"What do I want, Murtagh? I want to be your friend... I would like us to be friends, is that too much to ask?" came the reply as he got annoyed with how Murtagh was acting. This was stupid to be arguing when he was in such a state, but it could not be helped.

The red dragon turned to look at Murtagh, obviously saying something to him as the rider grimaced slightly then finally nodded. He sighed, "Look, Eragon. I... I am not comfortable sharing my troubles with you, not yet at least. I appreciate that you wish to help me, and you have already by allowing me to spar with you and to have someone else besides Thorn and my father to speak to." He took a deep breath, "And I would like us to be friends, but you must give me my space. My life for the most part is private, and I would much prefer it to remain that way unless I see fit to share things with you."

Eragon said nothing thinking that Murtagh was not finished yet.

"You must understand. I have few friends, and gaining my trust is difficult. Even more so is gaining enough trust for me to share my troubles with you and to ask for help," he said and then remained silent, his eyes watching Eragon all the while.

He speaks truthfully, at least as far as I can tell, mentioned Saphira.

"I can live with that, Just know that if you ever need my help, you need only ask," Eragon finally responded. "Friends?"

"Aye." Murtagh let a smile out briefly before it disappeared, "Friends."

A/N: Thanks for the support! Haha I wish I did get more reviews, but I'll write all the same. Again I appreciate those of you who have stuck around with me so far and I hope you enjoy the rest of the story as it unfolds.