A/N: Hiya! Let's just get right into it... I don't really know what happened with this last chapter, what with Nasuada being in the inn and Murtagh seeing her there… So I improvised! It all turned out OK :) Moving on, my belief is that King Orrin is an annoying butthead (ignore my childish language), therefore, I shall proceed to make him act like an annoying butthead. Orrin can kiss Murtagh's ass. ANYWAY, all is set right in this chapter! Not really, but it's a start. And is it just me, or does Nasuada seem very OOC whenever she opens her mouth?I know what you're thinking: Personal battle-planner? I was short on ideas, okay? Anyway, school's out for me, so start expecting more updates! As another side note, I guess this chapter is backtracking… that was not my original intention, but things just played out really well that way – not that most of this chapter makes sense… I know, Nasuada is acting like a HUGEGANTIC baby, but I wrote this like two weeks ago, and I can't get back into the groove, so I'll let it slide – just this last time. If you read the whole chapter, you'll see a proposal at the bottom! :)

CHAPTER 21!

Nasuada's heart leapt into her throat as the door noiselessly swung inward. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw King Orrin's face appear in the doorway. He looked around before he stepped over the threshold. Nasuada lowered her eyes. The last time she remembered speaking to the king, she had been ordering him to call off his guards.

"Asher Gordonson, I presume." Orrin's voice was smooth and impassive.
Nasuada glanced up at Orrin. He was fixing her with a hard stare, even as addressing Asher. Nasuada shifted her eyes to Asher. If he was nervous, he didn't show it, nodding calmly. Nasuada envied his composure.
Someone cleared his throat in the corner of the room. Nasuada turned her head; it was Jörmundur and the Nighthawks. At least Orrin couldn't hurt her.

Asher rose and shook the king's hand. "Your majesty," he said, evenly returning Orrin's appraising gaze. "We were discussing our involvement in the Battle of Belatona just as you arrived. Would you like us to continue?"
Orrin did not seem to appreciate the smug look which Asher was directing at him, but he agreed. "Resume," he permitted the younger man, once again fixated his cold stare on the young lady.

So Asher went on, Orrin making a comment here and there, Jörmundur making note of a few interesting points. All the while, he kept his eyes glued to Nasuada. His expression was completely unreadable. Contempt, disappointment, admiration; they were all there, yet, simultaneously not there.

"Of course, there is always room to improvise, if things go amiss. And I haven't factored in the whispered rumors of the Red Rider being on out side now…" Nasuada's palms were sweating profusely when Asher finally ceased speaking. She hadn't even been listening to half the plan, but Jörmundur stood and said, "Very good, boy," so she figured it must have been somewhat reasonable.

"I do my best," Asher replied. "Especially in a lady's presence." He cast a bashful grin in Nasuada's direction.
Surda's king smiled amiably. "You have a talent for war tactics, Asher. Surda appreciates your generous sharing of knowledge. You match the abilities of my personal strategist, even top them. Hopefully, you will never be needed again, though. A peaceful period has yet to come."

"As long as war rears its ugly head, I'll be a loyal service to you, sire."

Orrin nodded. "I'll take my leave now. Come along Jörmundur." The Nighthawks clomped down the stairs as well.
"That king, I tell you." Asher shook his fist in the direction of the stairway. He's so cocky and condescending, and all because he's royalty." Nasuada was startled by this sudden outburst; Asher had appeared so very polite toward Orrin.

"He's nothing like you," Asher added.

Nasuada blushed, examining her shoes. "Was he really being so impolite?"

Asher snorted. "Didn't you hear?" Nasuada shook her head. "No matter," Asher continued softly. "You're nothing like him. No one would ever guess that you were royalty." He took a step toward her.

Nasuada in turn took a step back. "I'm not royalty…" Her heart was threatening to burst out of her chest. All at once she recalled all their childhood memories, how they had been playmates when they were young, and how they'd been such wonderful friends when they were older, and shared everything… and she fled the room. She wanted nothing less than to shatter the relationship they had shared for so long.

Breathing hard, but trying not to betray her emotions, Nasuada joined Orrin, Jörmundur, and the Nighthawks outside the noisy bakery. The king threw his arms around her. Nasuada barely prevented herself from gagging.
"Orrin," she tried to say gently. Her head was pounding. First Asher. Now Orrin. And what of Murtagh? "People are staring…"

Jörmundur was standing by awkwardly. "We thought Murtagh might've… done something to you. We immediately regretted sending him away with you."

"That bastard hasn't hurt you?" Orrin asked disdainfully.

Nasuada shook her head. "No." She spotted something in an upper-floor window. Asher's white-blonde head. She put her head in her hands.

"Whatever is wrong, my dear?" Orrin asked, waving the Nighthawks away.
"I… I… Let's go, shall we?"

Orrin led her to where three horses were reined. "Battle-Storm." The lady gently stroked her stallion's muzzle.
"Where are you staying?" Orrin asked as he mounted his horse.

"A small inn," Nasuada replied. Her thoughts were racing. If only she could have a moment alone, to sort out her mangled emotions. Suddenly, an eruption of shouts broke out in nearby pub, two men, and a girl – followed by Murtagh – spilling out, and setting off at a breakneck pace achievable by only magicians.

In a completely futile attempt at keeping a low profile, Nasuada added to herself.

"Was that -?" Orrin looked dumbfounded.

An hour later, Murtagh sauntered into the Empire inn, wearing a somber frown. Word of what had happened was spreading fast, and would-be tenants began exiting the inn. Nasuada was standing in a somewhat secluded corner, but that wasn't preventing people from bombarding her with questions of innumerable topics. She tapped her foot impatiently.

Murtagh obviously had no intention of being confronted, so Nasuada elbowed her way through the crowd until she reached him. She grabbed his wrist, despite her apprehension of retaliation. Murtagh had just killed someone; what if didn't stop at one? But once again, the implacable sense of trust overrode her fear.
Tears were pricking Nasuada's eyes, threatening to brim spill over the brim. "Why did you do it?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Murtagh examined the floorboards. "I… I thought she deserved it."

Nasuada dropped the rider's wrist. She'd been anticipating a different, more just response. Something like, "She was Galbatorix's spy." But no, "I thought she deserved it."

"All of Feinster is in an uproar." Nasuada shook her head incredulously. "I can't believe you. We'll see to Lady Lorana when this whole mess is sorted out."She stalked away, scowling to herself.

Murtagh started after her. "I'm sorry!" He knocked an old woman aside to keep pace with the lady. "What I did was wrong, and I'm sorry!"

Nasuada kept walking, past Orrin, Jörmundur – the king started after her, but Jörmundur, thankfully, put a firm hand on his shoulder - the Nighthawks, Battle-Storm, anxious citizens questioning her about the events of the past hour. She strode straight through the gate distinguishing the inner part of the city from the outer. She walked right to the edge of the walls, outside of which were wild beasts and untamed Urgals, and bandits – and sat down.

Just as the tears began running down her cheeks, Murtagh appeared, his footfalls stirring up miniature dust storms, angry shouts in his wake.
"I had to shake half a dozen of them," he explained, panting. "They were getting pretty angry – coming after me with pitchforks."

Nasuada tried to cover her face, but she was too late. Murtagh fell silent and seated himself beside her.
"I apologize." Murtagh said, and gently touched her arm.

Nasuada sniffed delicately. Breaking down like this isn't an option, she told herself. My people need me. There's a way to think this over rationally. But when she thought of all the duties that had been dropped on her shoulders, the sobs started again.

Too much, this is too much. She thought about Orrin – how much hated him. Maybe not him, but the way he treated people. And Asher hadn't even been in the picture until an hour ago, but she didn't know how she felt about him, either. And then there was the young man sitting next to her, his arm resting affectionately on her shoulders. She didn't know how she felt about him at all.

Well. I was thinking about holding a contest: Everyone who reviews can pick a number 1-20, and whoever is closest gets a prize! Yay! You'll get a PM from me if you win. I won't complain if you only leave a number in your review, but I'd really like some nice comments... or mean comments, depending on which you prefer, both are fine. And speaking of nice comments, Restrained Freedom, Totally Random Solembum, and Unamuni are like, awesome at leaving them! THANK YOU! And of course, I want to thank my betareader for helping this chapter to make a little bit more sense :)

-seastar