Funfact: I'd always imagined the green dragon as being named Emerson, and knew I'd heard the name before. The problem was that I couldn't place where and couldn't find it in any of the baby-name dictionaries. I finally resigned to the fact that I made the name up, and the next day my English teacher introduced us to Ralph Waldo Emerson.

You know, I really don't like the smell of you after you have your lessons with him. I snorted, reminded of all the creepy, boring supernatural novels that had taken over my world. All the guys had that kind of power, and they all commented on the way their beloved smelled after spending the day with a friend who was a little too friendly, or whatever.

I ignored the implications of what that could possibly mean and leaned forward, pressing my ear against Emerson's neck, Just beat him back tonight; I want to prove that we're better. If Emerson could, I'm sure he would have rolled his eyes right about then, but instead he pulled his wings back and stretched his neck forward, as if that would actually help us to go faster. Then again, whatever he did worked because before I could count to three, Murtagh and Thorn had fallen away.

It felt nice, to actually not have to be thinking about him or seeing him. He and I have been spending way too much time together lately, and I'm going to attribute the random tightness of the throat and the in ornate amount of blushing to that fact. Because I know myself well enough to know that I still love Garrett. Yeah, I used the word love; love doesn't scare me. Love is nice; calming and peaceful once it's realized. Even if it was me loving Garrett and he was a total jerk. Still, momentary calm.

Was there a fight tonight, child? I started to suck at my teeth; Lord knows why, but if there's one thing that Emerson taught me it was to not fight my instincts. I have no reason to be nervous or scared, and therefore no reason to be sucking at my teeth and running my tongue around my mouth like I'm training for the Olympics, or whatever.

I also felt hurt, but that feeling is negligible. Why be hurt? At least Murtagh admitted to having feelings. Sighing, and feeling very resigned, I quickly showed Emerson the memory, and followed it up with a claim I knew instantaneously to be false, It's not a big deal, Emerson. It wasn't even a fight; it was an annoyance that… exploded. Alright, wording could have been better.

The puff of smoke that was a direct result of Emerson's snort of amusement, which made me more and more nervous every time it grew, blew in my face, and I coughed as my dragon dipped below cloud cover and pulled his wings back against his body. I narrowed my eyes, trying to fight the tears that were forming completely because of the speed as Emerson finally thought out his response, I sure hope your annoyance never explodes with me; we might not survive it.

I'm not that mean when I'm angry, I protested as Emerson hit the ground with a painful jolt. Take-offs and flying he's great at; it's the landing without nearly throwing me off that gets him. He builds up too much speed in the dive, or something. Maybe he's just got bad brakes. Hell, no brakes would be a possibility.

By the time Murtagh landed, I was hidden safely in the stable with Emerson, bent on spending the night with him. I hadn't seen him all yesterday, and the castle just seems… boring. Besides, if I wake up to Murtagh saving me from y nightmare one more time, there will be hell to pay. And I'm not just talking about how I'm going to kill him and blame him for these damn nightmares.

Have you been able to find out which way South would be? I shook my head, careful not to let the 'oh shit' feeling that was flowing through me actually transfer itself to Emerson. That may have been one errand I'd completely forgotten about, despite the fact that it was a crucial step towards freedom, which in turn is something I cherish. I wonder how I'd bring that into conversation.

Not yet; I'm still trying to figure out how to do it. There, not even a lie. I can sleep here guilt-free tonight. I am learning a lot about him, though, which will help if we have to fight him. Hmm, it occurs to me now that saying that might not have been the best idea I've ever had. Which is saying something – I have some bad ideas.

Emerson growled at the idea of my spending time with Murtagh, in spite of the fact that, if I had it my way, I would have left weeks ago. Like that night when I realized that I actually liked Murtagh, a fact which I still won't fully admit to… anyone. Including me. That thought didn't even just form; you're all crazy.

"Lady Liaden-" I jumped and spun, my body tensing at the familiar, deep voice of my teacher. My stomach squelched, and of all the words that could have gone running across my mind, all I could think of was the fact that he felt things. And not only did he feel things, but he was aware of those feelings; he didn't try to say that he was heartless or made of rock – he knew. He was also smirking, "I did not mean to frighten you, my lady-" *swoon* "-but I thought you might want to accompany me back to the castle."

"Why would I want your company?" That… could have been nicer. "I mean, um, I wanted to spend the night with Emerson. I feel like I've been… neglecting him." I gulped passed the nervousness in my throat, which was uncharacteristic for me, especially here, with Emerson, where I feel confident. I mean, I do have the protection of a rather large dragon.

Murtagh looked between me and a very tense, glaring Emerson, "As much as I understand the need to be near one's dragon-" Don't you dare, Murtagh. "-I can't allow you to sleep in the stables with him."

My world spun around a little as Emerson growled, reaching his front leg in front of me protectively, "Wh… But why not? I used to live in here, I'm not allowed to visit?"

"With all due respect, Liaden-" *massive swoon* "-You've tried to escape before, and I'm simply too concerned with your safety to allow you to try such a stunt again; the world beyond this castle is dangerous, whether or not you would've been safe in New York."

He's concerned with my safety. Did anyone else hear that? Did I just imagine something? Carefully, I pinched myself, and my heart skipped a beat at the pain I felt. Nope, I'm awake. Moreover, even though I'm angry at Murtagh, I don't think I'm going to fight him on this particular issue. After all, if it's for my safety… WHAT AM I DOING?! "You arrogant pig!" Better. "You can't keep me trapped in that castle just because I went a little crazy one night – I was going to come back!" See, now that's a lie.

Murtagh's lips thinned as his eyes narrowed simultaneously in suspicion, "Oh, really?" I nodded, once again gulping and very thankful for the dragon that was between us. "Well, even that may be the case, I'm afraid that I can't take my chances; the king would be very put out if he found out that I'd lost you."

I felt my eye widen at the idea of Murtagh once again in the hands of a displeased King. Who would even heal him, then? One of the Urgals? I shook my head inwardly, rejecting the idea as I stepped over Emerson's claw. His surprise was evident, and not just to me, but he was quiet as I let Murtagh lead me out of his stall.

I tried to ignore the fact that Murtagh's hand was firmly placed on the small of my back, which was for whatever reason a very sensitive area for me, as he pushed me towards the door of the stable. I froze, though, when just along the path a horse stuck its head out from one of the larger stalls, and my heart stopped a little. "Pappy." I glanced over my shoulder at Murtagh to see him smirking, looking almost proud, "You had him moved here?"

"His old stall was much too small." That's thoughtfulness again! First with the Lady in Waiting, and now with Pappy? I mean, does he want me to die gushing with excitement?

I rushed forward, careful not to scare Pappy; that was one thing Murtagh could never undo – the abuse he'd suffered at the hand of the Urgals. And I really want to blame Murtagh for that abuse, but I won't. I've seen how stupid the Urgals can be, or at least the Urgals charged with the protection of this castle.

I reached towards him with my mind so that he'd know it was me, but that was an afterthought. Luckily, he stayed where he was, and let me gently pet his long, wide nose. After a few seconds, he pushed forward against me and knocked me back a few steps, but I just laughed. I could see the Urgals, who were standing post at the door, stiffen, and I realized that they were fighting the urge to attack him. Good, they'd better. Emerson's just down the line and will eat them.

Be careful child, Emerson offered his parting words, but I ignored as I stepped forward again, this time scratching Pappy's forelock, not realizing how much I'd missed him until I had the time to offer him. This horse, in addition to Amy, was my rock in my world. He completely and totally understood next to nothing about my life or my problems, but somehow he knew when to cheer me up.

Nickering, Pappy pushed his nose forward again, sending me flying a few steps back and laughing loudly. At least, I was laughing loudly until I took one step too far back, right into Murtagh's chest. The position was painfully awkward, mostly because that lump in my throat grew, resulting in my ability to breathe dramatically decreasing. I huffed quietly for breath as I spun my neck, my eyes wide as they collided with Murtagh.

In an attempt to catch me, Murtagh had reached his arms forward and wrapped them around me, resulting in a very turned around hug, and upon catching my eyes he quickly mesmerized me. They were like… like a storm of black-brown-gray, and I almost felt a gravity pulling me towards him. In my head, I was desperately trying to remember why this shouldn't happen, but I wasn't succeeding.

CHILD! Emerson, on the other hand, is very talented at succeeding. My head, which had barely moved forward, snapped backwards, resulting in my tumbling out of Murtagh's arms and landing on my feet a few steps away. Pappy was pawing at the ground, throwing his head up and down in excitement, obviously wanting to play more.

"Uh, uh, calm down, Pappy; shush, I have to go, no more playing." I took a few steps forward, carefully placing myself out of the way of Pappy's oversized head, and stood on tiptoe to place a kiss on his cheek. I heard someone, presumably Murtagh, snort, and I turned to glare at him as I fell back down onto my feet, "What?"

"I've never seen anyone kiss a horse before." His response was as simple as that – nothing about how he felt or the customary relationship between a horse and their owner. Instead of offering something of a bit more substance, Murtagh extended his arm towards the stable door, inviting me to go on with him silently.

Unsure of what else to do, I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the numerous warnings and scoldings and concentrated instead on listening to the sounds of Murtagh's footsteps they were fairly soft, but measured, like he was marching to the beat of a drum rather than walking down a hallway. When I heard the doors open, I opened my eyes with them rather than risk walking into the doorway, or an Urgal, by accident.

Instead of closing my eyes again once outside the stable, I decided to talk to Murtagh as a way of ignoring what Emerson was saying; I mean, his fears are completely gratuitous. I don't even know what he's talking about anymore; what happened back there was… my hormones. Yeah. Right.

"So," I sighed, "What do you… think about the weather?"

Murtagh's smirk almost glowed in the moonlight, "Can't you think of anything better than that, Liaden?"

See, now that sounds like a challenge, which is bad because when Murtagh challenges me I feel this natural urge to not think and do whatever comes to mind to prove him wrong. In this case, words that had the potential of being very bad tumbled out of my mouth before I could think of some way to stop them, "Why would you work for a King who is so obviously abusive?"

Murtagh's smirk fell, but he didn't bother to hide the pensive look from his face. Apparently, I actually asked a tough question. I actually feel a little proud. Murtagh and I were up a small, winding stair case and walking down the middle hallway of the castle, the one that overlooked the two courtyards, when he finally responded, "I've seen the rebel side, and I know what they plan to do, and so as horrible as King Galbatorix may seem based on my condition just a few days ago, I am confident that he'll be a better leader than any of the Varden."

"The Varden?" Sounds like vermin.

"That's what the rebels call themselves. The Varden."

"How did you get to know the King so well, though? How can you be so sure that he's the right person to lead the country?" At this point, we'd reached the end of the hallway, where we usually go our separate ways. Instead, though, Murtagh leaned his shoulder against the pillar marking the intersection on his side of the hallway, and I leaned my back against the same pillar on my side.

"My father was murdered when I was fairly young by one the leaders of the rebels. He'd been the King's first follower, and as his son I was entitled to a high position in the Kingdom; the King left me in peace until my eighteenth birthday, when he approached me about becoming a leader in his army. I agreed."

"But?" His story cannot be that simple.

Murtagh's smirk lacked any official glow this time, but it still seemed almost magical. Hell, it very well could be magical, I don't know. "I'll save the rest for another time, my Lady. We must both get to bed. I won't wake you for breakfast tomorrow; I think you'll need your sleep." Murtagh turned, but I felt too comfortable where I was, the dim torchlight throwing fun-looking, jagged shadows onto everything. He paused at his door, looking to see that I hadn't moved, "Are you alright, m'lady?"

The lump grew, but I managed to talk through it, "Yeah, I'm fine; just… not tired."

"Well, the reason you'll need your rest is because the tailor is coming; he wants you to try on more things. Apparently you haven't gotten nearly enough clothing yet." I rolled my eyes at Murtagh's attempt at sarcasm, not bothering with a response. He didn't walk into his room, though, but stood there, door half open, his eyes scrutinizing me, "Are you really not going to go to sleep?"

I shook my head, strangely serious about it, "Nah; I think I'm going to go sit on the balcony. It's a decent enough night, and these tights are warm enough." Murtagh's lips pursed and, hesitantly, he took a step towards me. His brow was etched in confusion, and more than ever I wished that I had a camera with me from my world; he was so beautiful in that moment, so perfect-looking. Like… like the stature of Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice. Only alive and moving.

"Liaden, with all my respects, I'm not sure how comfortable I feel leaving you out here alone; please, just g-"

I shook my head, wrinkling my nose at the idea of having to go and sit in my room until I found the right moment to fall asleep. "I won't go and see Emerson, I promise. I just want to sit on the balcony and look at the stars. It's a clear night, you know? Perfect for stargazing." Ugh, could I sound and more girly and romantic? I might as well add about wishing on the stars and then twirl.

Murtagh looked at me for a second, obviously torn as he took a hesitant step towards me, "I… Maybe I should go out there with you. It can get dark out there and if you fall it'll be one messy clean-up for me in the morning."

I sucked in a breath as Murtagh took another step towards me, so that he was nearly back where he'd started at his pillar; honestly, the idea of stargazing with Murtagh seemed nice. But I'm not that naïve; eventually, we'll get into a fight and then the whole night will be ruined. "No, no, you need your rest more than I do; I'll be just fine, I promise."

Murtagh's lips pursed again, but this time he turned, walking with a strange confidence back to his room and only pausing at the door, "Goodnight, m'lady." Of course, he had to leave me with that lump in my throat that usually doesn't leave until he says something stupid.

Once Murtagh's door closed, it occurred to me that I could very well go to his study, find a map, and figure out which is South. But stargazing, which was my original intent, seemed a nicer, more relaxing alternative. Besides, if Murtagh does a random Liaden-search, I want to be able to prove to him that I'm trustworthy. Why? Because then I get more privileges, and then it's easier to get away.

Yeah, I'm sly like that.

Swallowing, I turned and forced myself to hurry towards the front balcony and, upon reaching it, glancing around to try and figure out my options. It was simply designed: a single table with a few chairs spread around and a dragon on each of the outer corners of the wide, just above waist-high stone fence. Carefully, distastefully, I eyed the table and chairs. Neither looked comfortable, which may have been the point.

Instead, I headed towards the fence, which had more than enough room for me to sit or lay down on it as I pleased. Stargazing is better laying down, though.

I wish I brought a pillow, I thought in the moment between when my head hit the stone and when I fully realized how beautiful a night it truly was. Every star twinkled, and more importantly they twinkled different colors, like dragon's scales. The change in color was slight, as they were mostly white, but each one had a barely different tint. It was almost hard to choose which part of the sky to look at first.

Bored and interested to see what shapes I could make, a few minutes after I got out there I decided to start playing connect-the-stars. After what felt like about an hour, I'd only been successful and finding a very disproportionate stick-figure and a crab claw. The game, though tiring and a little boring, was enough to hold my attention and distract my thoughts from a certain dark-haired teacher who I'm not attracted to, even if I am.

See, in those first few minutes before I decided to play the game, I'd also made a decision; yes, I was attracted to Murtagh. Really, it was only logical to be attracted to him – he was the only thing around my age that wasn't blue for who knows how many miles. But, despite this very slightly physical attraction, I don't like Murtagh that much. Not even as a friend, really. He was too infuriating, too frustrating. I'd have to be masochistic to like him.

Hence I'm attracted to him, but not attracted to him at all. Simple logic.

Suddenly, in the distance, there was the beginnings of what could end up being a very loud roll of thunder. It seemed familiar, to the point that I should know what it was and how to react, but I couldn't place my finger on it. I knew it wasn't thunder, because after a few seconds it had only gotten louder and was continuing to grow. Thunder doesn't last that long.

I flinched as I sat up, a small speck of something smacking me on the nose. The thunder had very quickly become almost too loud to bear, but I realized what it was all too late. In the split second before it hit, I had enough time to hit the ground and brace myself by falling to my knees next to the fence. The wind blew me into the fence and, painfully, sand started to slap at my body.

I felt like an idiot, getting caught in a sand storm twice, even though this time shelter was all of ten feet away. But more importantly, I knew I had to get out of the sandstorm before it blew something into my skull, or found some other way to kill me. My eyes squinted shut, I started to head in what I thought was a straight line towards the door, but somehow ended up with me smacking right back into the wall.

Well, that isn't going to work. My next reaction was to open my mouth and scream for help, but when I opened my mouth I just felt more pain as a few grains of sand found their way in. Simultaneously, a few found their way into my nose and I tucked the bottom half of my face into my shirt. There was always Emerson, but I refused to call for him to help. He couldn't get to me without breaking the stable and being blown all over the place by this wind. And that could be dangerous in very obvious ways.

My eyes still squeezed shut, I tried to hear if the storm had gotten any quieter, which would hint at it coming to an end, but I was greeted by nothing more than an even louder bang. It hadn't even peaked yet. "LIADEN?!" His voice drew me , and I looked up to see him standing in the doorway, protected by the red, pulsating shield that had saved me from the Urgals on my first escape attempt.

My scream back for him was muffled by my shirt, but somehow he managed to hear me and find his was to me easily, engulfing me in the energy and pulling me up and into his chest. Now, this could almost be a real hug, if I thought he was doing it for affection and not to get me into the castle.

Which was why I was shocked when, instead of dragging me away, Murtagh held me to him, his face scrunched up as he concentrated on the shield. I would've poked him, if I could deal with the damage that would result. Alas, I couldn't, and so instead I resigned myself to rest my chin on his chest and watch his face change as the storm grew less and less intense.

When the storm had fallen away all together, Murtagh let the shield fall and, with it, let a breath nearly punch its way out of him he was so desperate for air. He ended up falling onto me a little, and I did my best to support and question him at the same time, "What were you, waiting up for me?"

Murtagh shook his head as he turned, letting me support him as far as the castle, "No, no, the sandstorm woke me up; I checked your room, but you weren't there, so I came out here to get you."

"Oh." He actually wants me to die gushing excitement. "Well… thanks."

Coming down the world to know you
And angels fall without you there
And I go on as you get colder
Or are you someone's prayer?
You know the lies they always told you?
And the love you never knew?
…
I'll become what you became to me

Black Balloon by the Goo Goo Dolls

Note: These lyrics are kind of for the next chapter too, but I decided to put them with this one for whatever reason.