A/N: Hello. It's been a really long time since I've updated. Sorry, my laptop was being held for two weeks. So I could have had this pittifully short chapter out two weeks ago, then I wouldn't feel so bad. Anway. I didn't realize how it's been since Nasuada and Murtagh have been in the picture. I was playing catch up – this chapter is half-and-half because where I left off with Eragon, Orrin hadn't left yet, so… yeah. Fun, fun, fun! So: I got a weird question in a PM: Somebody wanted to know how old I am. Huh. I've been contemplating giving the answers. Now a lot of you are probably scratching your heads, thinking, Hmmm…. I wonder how old she really is. I'm wondering if you guys would think if was weird if I said I was, like, 5 or something. Anyway, I don't think I can answer the question until you answer it yourselves. How old are you? Take that. xD. I'm afraid you'll ridicule me for my age XXD. So, yeah, leave your age in your review, (which is mandatory if you don't want me to track you down and kill you), if you aren't too ashamed of your fat selves. Haha, just kidding.

Disclaimer: Awesome names, characters, stuff like that all belong to the author who created them, not me, although you might have thought they belonged to me because I've forgotten to put the disclaimers in so many chapters x).

I have a question for you guys: Has anyone read the book Matched by Allyson Condie? It's supposed to be really good if you like The Hunger Games trilogy (which I did). Leave the answer to that in a review, too, with the age one. So... read, I guess. xP :D

Eragon sank wearily into his chair. All eyes were on him, per usual, but he did not care as he closed his own eyes. Healing Roran had taken more energy than Eragon had thought it would, and meeting at the crack of dawn wouldn't have been his first choice. Saphira had offered to give him some of her strength, but he had refused.

Eragon couldn't imagine what Orrin wanted to have a meeting about; now that he had dismissed practically the entire Council of Elders, and more than half his cabinet, it seemed any decision he made would be better off made on his own.

Eragon felt someone shake his shoulder, and was roused from his doze. The previously empty chairs were now filled, as if by magic. It seemed like he had only closed his eyes for a fraction of a second. Lady Borromeo was seating herself in a chair to the right of her brother.

Eragon blearily scanned the faces of those present. Jörmundur, one other from the Council of Elders whose name he could not recall, five from Orrin's cabinet, whom he had never become acquainted with, Lady Borromeo, and –

Arya? Eragon was surprised at first. Of course, it made sense. Arya was the only elf with Varden. There was no Dwarf in attendance, though.

Eragon also took note of where each individual was placed in the circle of seats. He sat to the immediate left of the king; an empty chair that was presumably Nasuada's was to the right of Orrin; beside the empty chair sat Orrin's sister. Jörmundur was beside Eragon, and beside Jörmundur was Arya. There was neither Dwarf nor Urgal in attendance. Nasuada would never stand for that.

King Orrin cleared his throat, frowning on Eragon. "I now call this meeting to session. As you know, the few of you here have been selected to serve as my - and Lady Nasuada's - council."

Orrin began droning on and on about power as Eragon drifted in and out of a doze. It wasn't like him to sleep through a conference of any kind, even notably boring ones at sunrise, but he couldn't seem to keep his eyelids from drooping.

He sat up a little straighter when Orrin said, "But that is not the point. I've called you all here to make and announcement. I plan to follow Lady Nasuada to Feinster." Eragon traded a look with Arya. The king's hardly left any room for negotiation.

"Orrin." Lady Borromeo spoke softly. "Perhaps you'd -"

"Not now, Mayrse."

"Your majesty," Eragon said, "perhaps you'd like company? Think of how much faster it would be on Saphira's back." He knew he'd never be able to sway the king's judgment. – there was only one person in all of Alagaësia who could do that: Nasuada. He figured he be better off on his side than against it.

I can't fly all the way to Feinster with the two of you on my back, Saphira protested. It's bad enough with only you on my back. You're getting to be awfully heavy, what with all the extra weight you've been putting on lately.

Eragon chose to ignore her.

"Thank you for the offer, Shadeslayer, but it won't be necessary," Orrin said briskly. "As Nasuada has neglected to bring her Nighthawks along with her for protection, I think it will be most convenient for them to accompany me on the journey. Thank you all for attending, you are dismissed."

Eragon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He did not understand why Orrin called Council meetings, yet sought no council. If approval was what he was searching for, it wasn't as if he needed it; once Orrin set his mind to something, there was no stopping him.

All eyes were on the young lady, per usual, but she did not care as her own eyes roved the square. Murtagh stumbled to keep up behind Nasuada, and people were watching him more than her. Were they looking at her at all? Nasuada did not break stride as she entered the teeming masses of the city circle. The crowds seemed to part before her.

Back to the inn, Nasuada thought as she walked, her steps matching pace with the rage of her pulse, and I'll devise a plan from there. Why did I ever bring Murtagh with me? She could not answer the question honestly, not even to herself. Was there a new beginning for him here? As if he weren't a known criminal all over the empire, all over Alagaësia. No. She had brought him here because she hadn't wanted him to fall back into Galbatorix's hands, not just because of the danger he posed to the Varden, but because he really was still good, and his smile was contagious, and because he made her breath hitch whenever she saw him –

"Murtagh?" She turned, noticing the absence of the quick footfalls behind her. And there he was. Twenty yards behind her, struggling against a swarm of guards.

"In the name of the Varden, release him!" Nasuada scurried back to where she had been moments before. The guards paid no attention to the hassle she gave them. Strange. Experimentally, hoping to Morgathal that her hunch would be wrong, she kicked one of them in the shin with her wooden-toed sandal, hard as she possibly could. The sickening crack that followed told her she had broken straight through brittle bone.

"NO!" Nasuada screamed. Murtagh's lips moved, but no sound issued form his mouth. His lips parted in a silent cry of pain as the blade of a sword grazed his neck. "Jörmundur, Orrin! Asher!"

There was nothing she could do. Nasuada watched helplessly, tears waterfalling down her face in flowing, steady cascades. The citizens of Feinster had known enough to flee during the capture – now the streets were virtually empty, aside from the mothers pulling their children into their houses and shutting the curtains. Nasuada knelt on the ground, waiting for Thorn to come to the rescue, but no wing beats punctuated the still air. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of her dripping tears, hitting the cobblestones.

A bell jingled lightly, and the sound of frenzied chatter could be heard as a door swung open and shut. A soft shadow fell over Nasuada.

"What happened?" Orrin and Jörmundur asked. Jörmundur's tone was firm, calm, almost parental; Orrin's was panicked.

"The warriors, the ones who feel no pain, came and took Murtagh," Nasuada sobbed. "They put some sort of silencing spell on him, and they were hurting him." She tried to staunch the flow of tears, but though her voice was almost steady, they continued pouring.

"Men who feel no pain?" Jörmundur was alarmed. "Why would they be in Feinster?"

"Don't you see? They came for him," Nasuada half-whispered. "They came for him. The only place he was safe was the Varden and I removed him from there."

Orrin laid a hand on Nasuada's shoulder and knelt beside her. A bell tolled in the distance.

Okay, I didn't know if Eragon should have been sitting to the left or right of Orrin, because Nasuada is like the 'right hand man,' so to speak. So, just in case left means, like the king thinks you're a maggot, I apologize in advance. Just a note, the Maryse is pronounced like MARE-iss, not MAY-riss. Duh. Haha, I've been reading Mortal Instruments. And I just realized something: the Eragon/Roran fail will have to wait until later. This chapter sort of took a totally different dynamic than I originally intended. But it truly is an epic fail. Um, review, subscribe, all that good stuff. I really have no idea when the next chapter will be done, but I'll be on it.

Writer of the North, if you're reading this, sorry (again)! :( I still do want you to beta for me :) I'm just really anxious to get the chapter out.

Peace. ~Seastar