Well I did it again. Told you I would post and waited forever to do so. If you are curious, the reason was because I reread the original chapters and hated them, so I re-edited them. Finally, I got back to this chapter.

I hope I did this justice. I wanted Eragon and Arya to work for each other and I didn't want it to be easy. However, I hope it still ends up making sense. This chapter is the turning point for Eragon in which he changes from a current path to a new one.

Please comment and let me know what you think of this one.

Enjoy!

A grand stage was set up at one end of the main square. Rows of people filled in the area before it, while leaving an aisle open in the middle. The description that came to Eragon's mind was elegantly simple. It represented a new era, one ruled by someone good, someone who cared more about their people than themselves.

Eragon looked down at himself. He wore brand new dark leather pants ending in black boots polished till they looked almost liquid. He wore a red tunic tucked into his pants, that fit him more snug than he would have liked. Nasuada had insisted he looked handsome. She had tracked him down to find out if he needed clothes for the ceremony and insisted on outfitting him. He brought her suggestions to Katrina and Roran to see what they thought. Roran had whistled at him cheekily but Katrina loved it. She had said he will have to be careful not make the girls pass out. He still thought the tunic was too form fitting, limiting his mobility in a fight. However, Katrina's fashion sense was better than his so he resigned himself to wearing the clothes. He still had Brisingr strapped to his side; the comfort of the steel steadied his nerves.

To his side Saphira shimmered. He had taken off the saddle this morning and she immediately flew to a nearby lake to clean herself. Now she looked as if she were made of pure blue light. With her head held high, she strolled forward between the two crowds of people lining the aisle. Everyone marveled at her and Eragon couldn't help but smile. The slow deliberate pace showed she was enjoying every bit of the attention.

He looked out into the crowd as well. Was it his imagination or were more girls trying to get his attention. He saw a pair of twins wink at him. Heat flushed his cheeks and he looked ahead, focusing on the stage they were heading towards. It was an impressive sight. Orik had insisted on having the dwarves build it. Nasuada insisted that it would not be extravagant. She wanted the people to know that she had come from them, that she was one of them. He agreed to keep it simple saying they would make it out of wood and only contain a few accents. What he didn't tell her is that he talked with the elves and had them help out. What stood before Eragon was a simple three level stage made out of dark polished oak. Marble accents lined the edges and the most amazing floral arrangement he had ever seen twisted and turned into an arc above it. The floral extended from the sides of the stage around to the front and lined the ground creating the aisle he and Saphira now walked.

A throne sat in the center. The same wood as the stage made up its middle while the arm rests and outer rim were made of marble. The upper headrest had jewels in a crescent pattern with a sword piercing through the middle. The hilt of the sword stuck out the top of the throne, while the blade was set in the marble pointing down, creating the illusion of a spine for the chair. The blade was exceptionally bright, reflecting the afternoon sun. It wasn't until he got closer that Eragon recognized the sword. It wasn't just bring, it was white. It was Galbatorix's stolen sword. And now it was here, making the foundation for the throne of the new Queen of Ilirea.

Eragon and Saphira reached the stage and ascended the steps. He waited for the wood to groan under Saphira's weight, but it remained silent. The dwarves were truly master builders. He went to the right hand side of the throne while Saphira went to the left. Once they were facing the crowd, the leaders of the other groups made their procession. Orik marched up first with a few of the higher-ranking dwarves. He was followed by a group of elves led by Lord Dathedr and Arya. Eragon stomach tightened at the sight of her. She looked incredible. She wore a dark green dress that shimmered when she walked. Her raven hair fell over her left shoulder and her eyes sparked in the light. She was the picture of regal calm and did not once take her eyes off the stage. She didn't once look out at the crowd nor up at him. Eragon remembered what Nasuada had told him but she wasn't here, she wasn't experiencing what he was experiencing. He felt as if Arya couldn't tell he existed. It was a pain he could not deal with. Not now. Not on such happy occasion. If she didn't want to acknowledge his presence then he would give her what she wanted. He would only speak to her if the situation demanded it. He would not look at her unless he was addressed. He would act as if he had moved on, as if she was not one of the most important parts of his life. He would act this way until one day it was true. He had to. The alternative was too painful. If she wanted to become polite strangers than he would do just that.

He didn't know this beautiful elf taking her spot in the front row. He didn't know how she smelled like pine or that her laugh was pure music. Eragon moved his eyes forward on the last of the leaders in the procession.

He already missed her.

A hush fell across the chattering crowd as everyone's eyes turned to the back. Nasuada stood at the beginning of the aisle smiling at the crowd before her. She began walking slowly, giving polite nods and smiles to her people. She wore a deep red dress without sleeves. Her scars from the Trial of the Long Knives were visible to everyone. Her dark hair cascaded behind her in intricate loops and swirls with golden ribbons throughout. It contrasted nicely with her burgundy skin. A flowing white train attached to her shoulders and trailed behind her. Following Nasuada were her Nighthawks, all dressed like royalty but each keeping a vigilant eye.

As Nasuada neared the stage, Eragon saw her glance to her right. Eragon followed her gaze and saw Murtagh looking back at her. He seemed transfixed, like he couldn't move or breathe, even if tried. She gave him a genuine smile and surprisingly he returned it with one of his own. She broke the moment first, bringing her eyes back to center. Murtagh looked towards the stage, and Eragon caught a hint of red in his face.

When Nasuada reached the bottom step she stopped and looked up at Eragon. He wondered if she could feel how proud of her he was. He looked to his side and a young drawf with a beard not even past his chest walked up with a velvet pillow. Upon it rested a golden crown of interlocking patterns and a brilliant diamond set in its center. The young dwarf handed Eragon the pillow and went back to his place off stage. Eragon then stood before the throne and Nasuada made her way up to him. She reached the top level and kneeled before Eragon.

"Nasuada, daughter of Ajihad, leader of the Varden," Eragon projected across the crowd. He placed the crown upon her head. "Rise, as Queen of the Empire!"

A deafening roar erupted from the crowd as everyone cheered. Saphira let loose a massive fireball into the sky that only seemed to excite the crowd even more. Eragon stepped aside and Nasuada sat in the throne. Eragon and Saphira then went before Nasuada. Saphira bowed her head while Eragon kneeled. They recited their vows of loyalty to her just as they had done all that time ago when she became the leader of the Varden. After Eragon, the other leaders came forward to swear their loyalty and friendship to her and her new rule. After the leaders came Varden nobility and high-ranking officers. Even Roran was given a chance to come forward and kneel before Nasuada. Eragon underestimated how much status he had gained since the war had started.

When the last person came forward there was a slight pause and Eragon thought the ceremony was over. Then Nasuada looked to the side and gestured for someone to come forward. Eragon looked and saw Murtagh making his way through the crowd. It didn't take long because most moved from his path. As he took the first step up the stage, Murtagh looked out past the crowd. Thorn was on the outskirts, watching his rider ascend the oak steps. Eragon knew that look, he had used it many times himself. Murtagh was drawing strength from his dragon. With a deep breath, Murtagh took the last step, and kneeled before Nasuada.

"Queen Nasuada," he said formally. "I swear my loyalty and the loyalty of my dragon to your new rule."

Short and direct, Eragon thought. He hadn't really expected much else.

"Rise Murtagh," Nasuada said. He did as he was told and she gestured to her side. When he moved she stood and the crowd went silent. "As my first act as Queen, I order that the name of Uru'baen be returned to Ileria. Uru'baen represented the downfall of hope. Ileria will represent its return!" The crowd cheered. She waited for the noise to die down before continuing again. "As my second act as Queen, I pardon Murtagh of any trespasses." The crowd went instantly quiet as if their voices had been sucked from their mouths. Nasuada held the gaze of thousands and didn't back down. She held the pause for a moment longer and then continued. "Like many before him, Murtagh was under the control of a tyrant. But with the strength of his will, Murtagh and Thorn broke free of their chains and helped us when we needed it the most." Nasuada looked at Eragon as if asking for help. He nodded and stepped forward.

"Many of you here today saw us fighting in the sky," Eragon said to the crowd. "What you did not see was what happened in the throne room. Murtagh bravely helped us surprise Galbatorix with a strong attack that gave us a fighting chance. If it were not for him, we would have never made it out of that palace."

"I cannot tell you what to think. All I can do is make sure you are all aware that without Murtagh and Thorn, we would not be here having this ceremony," Nasuada said turning to Murtagh. "I for one am extremely thankful." Then she bowed her head towards him. He just stood there, uncertainty on his face. Eragon looked out at the crowd. At first nothing happened. But then one by one they all bowed their heads. It wasn't done out of love, but it was done out of respect. They respected Nasuada and they respected that Murtagh had a hand in getting them here. To the side the dwarves kept their heads up. They didn't look angry, but it would take a lot more than a speech to make them forgive Murtagh for killing their king.

"Thank you," Murtagh whispered to Nasuada as she lifted her head. She smiled, and Murtagh made his way off the stage and disappeared into the crowd.

Nasuada turned back to the crowd and opened her arms like she could embrace them all.

"Let the celebration begin!" she exclaimed. Another roar went up as the crowd spread out and filled the square. Nasuada made her way off the stage, her golden crown glinting in the waning sunlight. Torches were lit along the edges of the square and a group of musicians came on stage to replace the throne. Eragon made his way off the stage as well and found a spot in one of the corners that gave a good view of the dancers now taking their places. Saphira lay down and Eragon sat, leaning against her side.

The musicians started playing and the dancers were immediately swept away. Eragon tried to lose himself in the pattern of moving bodies as they came together, separated, and came together again. He imagined himself on the dance floor, enveloped in the movement and music. He imagined his partner spinning around him, their feet moving in sync with one another. He imagined the softness of her skin in his hand, the smell of pine tickling his nose…

No, he told himself.

He had to stop thinking like that. It just wasn't meant to be. It was better to accept that now and move on instead of wallowing in what could have been. He focused on the dancers again and noticed more and more young women stealing glances at him. Some girls were blatantly staring at him. It made him feel uncomfortable.

"Ohoy!" exclaimed Orik coming up to him with two cups of mead. "Here, chug this with me," he said putting the drink in Eragon's hand.

"Umm…" Eragon tried to respond but Orik held out his hand.

"My foster brother is leaving for who-knows-where tomorrow. I'll be damned if I don't take advantage of this last chance to drink with him."

And what about his dragon? Saphira asked with mock stern.

"You think I would forget about you? There is a barrel being rolled from the back as we speak," Orik said with a wink. "Bottoms up, Eragon."

Eragon put the mead to his lips and drank. He had to admit; it felt good. The liquid seemed to warm him as it went down. When he finally finished the cup he looked at Orik who had already put his cup down.

"There ya go. We are going to do another in a little bit," Orik said.

"How did you finish yours so quick?" Eragon asked while trying to contain a burp.

"Please, you may be the strongest in the land, but no one can match King Orik when it comes to drinking," he said as he puffed out his chest. Eragon chuckled.

"Looks like I have some practicing to do," Eragon said.

"Yes, you do. We are going to enjoy this night. The war is over, Nasuada is queen, and we have all the food, drink, and music anyone could ask for. If I see you sitting over here in this corner all night I will personally hit you over the head with my hammer. That's a promise," he said raising his cup to Eragon.

"Okay, okay," Eragon said putting his hands up in defense. "I won't stay in the corner the whole night."

"Good. I'll go check on that barrel and get us another round of mead," Orik said as he stood.

"Orik."

"Yes?" he said over his shoulder.

"I am going to miss you."

Orik smiled. "You haven't left yet, so the goodbyes are going to have to wait. Tonight, we drink!"

Eragon laughed. He focused on being in the moment. He worked to take in every detail. He would need these memories if he was to survive his next adventure. That's what it was, an adventure. It could be exciting just as much as it was terrifying. Eragon smiled to himself. Maybe things would work out.

"If you keep looking so mysterious, I think the girls are going to start fighting over themselves to get you to dance," said a soft voice.

Eragon looked up and saw Katrina and Roran strolling up to him.

"Am I being mysterious?" he asked her.

"Well, first, you look very handsome in that shirt. Second, you the hero of the Empire and you're just lounging in the corner like you're at an afternoon picnic. Every girl wants a dance with the Eragon the Kingkiller."

"I am a terrible dancer."

"Doesn't matter," said Roran.

"So are you going to ask one of these girls to dance?" Katrina asked.

"I don't know. I'm quite fine staying here and being mysterious. Orik told me he'd hit me with his hammer if I stayed in this corner but I think I could talk him into drinking mead with me here instead."

"There's not one girl you'd like to dance with?" Katrina asked. Eragon gazed out at the crowd and thought he caught a glimpse of raven hair.

"Ahh. I know who he wants to dance with," Roran said smiling as if just read Eragon's deepest secret. "You want to dance with Arya!"

Eragon forced himself not to react to her name. He worked to keep his face neutral. It must not have worked. Roran scratched the back of his head looking sorry and Katrina looked at him with concern.

"Eragon, did something happen between you two?" Katrina asked.

"No. I've just finally accepted the way things are, that's all."

"Look, the best advice I can give is to focus on having fun. It'll help you stay out of your head. And the best way to stay out of you head is to get up," she took his hands in hers and stood him up, "and go dance with one of the many girls who have been drooling over you all night. Now, lets see which luckily lady will get a dance with the great Eragon." She scanned the crowd and then pointed to a group of girls that giggled as soon as his gaze landed on them. "What about one of them?"

Eragon looked at the girls. There was four of them standing around each other. The two closest to him were trying desperately for his attention. They batted their eyelashes and gave him their best smiles. They each swayed their hips to the music, giggling all the while. Eragon thought they were good-looking but too over-the-top. A third looked as if she was about to be sick, her face turning a shade of green. The fourth stood behind the first two. Eragon first noticed her eyes. Even from a far he could see that they were brilliant blue, like the color of Saphira's scales. She had golden hair the swirled past her shoulders. She smiled at him, but in a way that was real, unlike her two friends. She held his gaze, but then she looked at the two girls in front of her and turned away. Eragon wondered if these two were the ones that usually got the attention of men.

"Okay, I'll go ask one to dance."

Katrina smiled at him and gave him a pat on the back.

"Go get em," Roran said. He grabbed Katrina's hand and took her back to the dance floor.

Eragon walked towards the girls, looking at the two in front. Their smiles grew even larger. He could feel many other eyes on him as he strolled across the dance floor. His palms began to sweat.

Maybe this was a bad idea, he thought.

The two girls in front looked up at him with big round eyes as he approached. He took a deep breath and then smiled at them. The third girl took one look at him and bolted off the dance floor, a hand holding her mouth.

"Hello," Eragon said to the two girls in front.

"Hi," they said together.

"Would you guys mind if I danced with your friend?"

Their mouths dropped open so fast Eragon thought they might break off. The girl behind the first two looked up at him curiously. He took a step forward and the two girls parted before him, still unable to form a response.

"Hi, I'm Eragon."

"I'm Vanessa."

"Would you like to dance with me?"

"I would," she said smiling. Eragon extended his elbow to her and she took it. He led her to the most crowded part of the dance floor, leaving her friends in their wake.

"You know, they are going to hate me for this," Vanessa said looking over her shoulder.

"They haven't seen me dance yet. Trust me, it isn't something they will be jealous of. I am going to apologize in advance for stepping on your feet."

"It's okay. I'll take your bad dancing over their gossip any day."

Eragon smiled. This might turn out okay after all.

The band picked up a different tune. A slower melody began and dancers took their positions. Eragon looked at the pairs around him and mimicked their stances. He held Vanessa's hand in his and put his other on her waist. Her orange dress reminded him of the sun, almost completely below the horizon. It was extremely soft to the touch. The dance began and they were off. He immediately stepped on her foot. She winced but smiled. He mouthed, "I'm sorry," and focused on getting his footing right. The other couples moved so fluidly it was intimidating, but Vanessa made him feel comfortable. She just looked at him with those blue eyes and smiled when he made a mistake.

The dance wasn't that hard to get after a little practice. They would separate, he would spin her, and they would come back together and move as one. He was getting the hang of it and could enjoy the music more now that he wasn't so focused on not crushing her feet.

As they circled each other, Eragon saw Nasuada spin into his sight. She was twirling under Murtagh's hand. He pulled her out of the spin and back into his arms. She looked up at him with a beautiful smile and he returned with his own in kind. His eyes wouldn't leave hers as they moved in perfect unison with her. Eragon had no idea Murtagh was so good at dancing. They separated like everyone else and then came back together. This time they were so close Eragon was sure they were breathing the same air. And just as the music shifted, so did they, and Eragon lost them in the crowd.

The music picked up speed and volume. Eragon was gaining more confidence in his dancing and twirled Vanessa. She spun completely around and he pulled her back in. She had a big smile on until he went forward to early and stepped on her foot, again. She cringed, but then laughed afterwards. It was a sweet sound, and it felt good on his ears.

"I am so sorry… again," he said into her ear so she would hear him over the music. He felt her other hand leave his side and wrap around his neck.

"It's okay… again," she said softly, her breath tickling his skin.

He was about to tell her that he owed her one when he glanced up, and then stopped moving.

Arya stood on the edge of the dance floor, staring at him. She seemed lost in her head, her brow furrowed, her mouth slightly open. When she caught Eragon looking at her, her features hardened, her jaw muscle stuck out, and she turned on her heel and stormed off.

"Vanessa, I have to go check on something. Excuse me," he told her hurriedly.

"Oh. Okay."

Eragon left her confused on the dance floor and headed to where he last saw Arya. He reached the edge of the crowd and saw her pacing away towards the woods on the other side of the square.

"Arya!"

She didn't turn around, or even slow her pace. Eragon began running towards her. When he finally caught up, he noticed her hands where balled in fists.

"Arya, stop," he said reaching for her arm. She jerked it away before his fingers made contact.

"Go away, Eragon," she said slowly. She was holding back.

Why was she so upset?

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Nothing is going on, just go back to the celebration and leave me alone."

"Arya, please. Tell me what's happening."

"I already told you. Nothing is going on. Just leave me alone!" she said angrily.

"No. Enough!" Eragon said, his voice rising as well. "You have been acting so strange lately. You pretend like I don't exist, like you can't even stand to look in my direction, and now you're mad at me for a reason I can't think of. Why are you treating me like this? What did I do to you?"

"You just wouldn't understand, Eragon!"

"Well its kind of hard to understand if you won't even talk to me!"

"Where you just going to leave?" she asked him directly. Her eyes were fierce as they held him in place. She was angry, but there was something else behind it, he saw it in the way she seemed to be searching him, looking for something. "Where you just going to pack up tomorrow and disappear without a second thought?"

"Arya, I-"

"No," she said, putting a hand up. "I don't care, Eragon. Go back to the party. You were obviously having a fun time dancing." She turned her back on him and continued walking away.

"I wanted to tell you!" he shouted at her retreating frame. "But you were never around!"

It was no use, she didn't look back. Eragon took a deep breath, trying to calm his anger. It wasn't his fault. She kept avoiding him. She wanted this. If she would not have acted like he was a stranger than he could have told her about his plans. She was to blame, right?

Eragon took another long, deep breath. I didn't help; he still felt rattled. He turned around and walked back to the celebration. He didn't feel like dancing anymore. If Orik wanted to hit him with a hammer for not partying with everyone then he could go right ahead.

Eragon walked the perimeter of the lively crowd and found Saphira taking the first sips from a barrel of mead. She looked up as he approached, her large eye training on him.

What happened, she asked.

Eragon shook his head, but let his emotions drift over their mental connection.

I'm going to go find a spot away from the crowds. I don't want to be by people right now, he told her.

I'll be right back, she said getting up.

Where are you going?

I just want to check on something. And with a two flaps of her enormous wings she was in the sky sailing away from him. Eragon shrugged it off and walked away from the festivities.

He found a spot he was content with under an awning of a local pub. The chairs and tables were all empty so he sat in the corner and put his elbows on the table. He rested his face in his hands and took yet another deep breath. He was finally beginning to calm down. His anger was subsiding, but it was being replaced by something else. A sensation of empty sadness was creeping over him and formed a knot in his stomach. He had never fought with Arya in all the time they had known each other. What had changed between them that they could yell at each other like that? He shook his head and slumped back into his chair, the pain becoming as real as the wounds he acquired in battle. The war was over, yet he was still fighting.

After a few minutes he could feel Saphira's presence again. The reverberations in the air grew as she neared his spot in front of the pub. She touched down lightly and walked towards him.

You need to go see her, Saphira said in his head.

I don't think that is the best idea right now. She's made it pretty clear that she doesn't want to see me. Eragon also shared the pain he was feeling. He didn't want to experience any more than he already had.

I promise, she is in much more pain than you.

Eragon looked at her curiously. Saphira then shared a memory with Eragon. From her perspective he saw the dancing crowd fall away as Saphira soared into the air. He watched as she flew a similar route that Eragon had walked to meet with Arya. She kept flying out of the square and over the woods beyond. At the crest of a small hill, he saw a figure leaning over round boulder. It was Arya, and through Saphira's eyes he saw her body trembling. Was she… crying? Eragon had never seen her display such emotion before. Saphira circled around and headed back the way she came. Then the memory ended.

You must go to the young elf. A battle rages within her. She needs you to help her survive it.

Eragon stood up from his chair. This would probably end terribly but Saphira was right, he had to go talk to her. If at the very least, he had to apologize for yelling at her. He didn't want his last memory of Arya to be them fighting. His palms were already sweating.

The cool night air ruffled Eragon's hair as he made his way to the crest of the hill. He glanced up and noticed that the stars were emerging from their slumber, creating a roof of diamonds over the world. The moon was hidden behind some remaining clouds, casting a hazy, ethereal glow on the woods around him. He pushed past a low hanging branch and emerged at the top of the hill. Before him was a boulder bathed in moonlight, and Arya with he face in her arms on top of it. Her legs were tucked underneath her and her hair covered the side of her face, but he could see her shoulders were still trembling. The sight pained him.

As he approached her he noticed that she stifled a sob and tilted her head slightly to look in his direction. She then wiped her eyes, stood up, and began to walk away.

"Arya, wait."

She stopped, but didn't turn around.

"Please," Eragon said softly. "Just listen to me for one moment, and then I'll leave you alone. You won't have to see me ever again." She sniffed but made no other motions to leave, so Eragon continued.

"I never told you about my fight with Galbatorix," he said to her. "I know you were there, but you've never heard my side of it. When we were fighting, I began losing hope. I knew he was too strong and figured it would only be a matter of time before he ended me. I wasn't going to give up, but I knew I probably wasn't going to make it out of there either. It scared me…a lot. After he killed Jorn, I knew I wouldn't last much longer. And then he got you."

Eragon paused, the memories coming back to him.

"It was like watching the world fall away. Seeing him torture you ripped me apart. I couldn't deal with it. It was too much for me to handle and I- I snapped. It was seeing you in pain that made me break through my barriers. It's what pushed me through to the one thing that could save you."

Arya turned around at this. She looked like she was not of this world. Her hair was outlined in a ghostly white. Her tears reflected the light as they fell down her cheeks. She was holding herself as if she might fall apart at the slightest touch. Eragon had never seen anything so beautiful and yet so fragile.

He took a step forward.

"But it wasn't enough. The new strength I had raised me above Galbatorix but it wasn't enough to destroy him. He knew that he could not defeat me straight on, so he resorted to striking at me another way. When his sword sank into you…I couldn't accept it. A world without you in it is one that I could not live in. My whole being rebelled against that reality and its what allowed me to finally kill him. It was all because of you. Because I care about you."

Eragon took a couple more steps towards her.

"I care about you so much," he whispered.

Eragon was close enough that he could smell the scent of pine. She looked at him, her eyes tearful. Her bottom lip trembled and she tried to say something. Her mouth opened but nothing came out.

Eragon steeled himself and took a final step towards her. He was now inches away from her.

"I am sorry I didn't tell you in person that I planned to leave. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't bring myself to say goodbye." A new tear fell from her eye. Eragon reached out slowly and wiped the streak with his thumb. She closed her eyes and almost seemed to press against his palm.

"Eragon, I'm- I'm so-" she began to say but choked on her words. Eragon gave her a small smile. He didn't understand what was happening with her but he wanted her to know that he cared, that he was there for her.

He dropped his hand and she looked back up at him. "Eragon, I'm so sorry," she said softly. "I've been acting terrible towards you when you didn't deserve any of it. And…when I found out about you leaving, I didn't know how to handle it. I'm so sorry."

"Do you still want me to leave?"

"No. Please," she said reaching for his hand. He looked down at her soft fingers wrapped around his. Then he looked into her face. She was biting her bottom lip slightly, looking more sorry than he had ever seen her before. "I'm sorry I yelled at you before. I-"

Eragon pulled her towards his lips, effectively cutting her off. It was a soft and tender kiss, but all the more thrilling. Her incredibly soft lips caressed his and drove his senses into a frenzy. It was a big risk, but he didn't care anymore. In less than a day he would be leaving everyone he had ever known behind.

He pulled away a moment later and looked at her. Her eyes opened slowly and found his. He was expecting anger, or bitterness for pulling her into him. Instead, her eyes softened. It was like she was letting go of all her burdens, releasing the weight of the world. A small smile spread across her lips and then she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her lips to his.

One minute Eragon was firmly on the ground. The next he was among the heavens and the stars. She kissed him with a passion he had never known and he gladly accepted it. He held her tightly and their bodies came together. Time seemed to stop around them and the universe fell away. There was only his lips and hers, her heartbeat drumming against his. A world that consisted of only two beings, wrapped up in each other's embrace.

And then Eragon felt something else, a brush of consciousness. She opened her mind to him, inviting him in. He merged his thoughts with her thoughts, his soul with her soul. Then Eragon experienced everything. She opened herself up completely to him, all her faults and all her imperfections. He saw how she had begun to care for him, more deeply than she was letting herself believe. How her mounting desire for him hit its peak when he saved her from the void. But with that desire came an even bigger fear. She feared the consequences of a failed relationship. How could they do their duties to the world if they could not speak to each other?

He witnessed her longing to kiss him when they had talked outside of the palace, and her decision against it. He sensed her pain and guilt as she worked to push him away, and the emptiness she felt when he eventually stopped looking at her. He felt her pain of learning that he was going to leave her forever and even the jealously of seeing another woman in his arms.

And on top of it all he felt the fear that the last words they would have spoken to each other would have been a fight.

But now he felt something different. He felt her relaxing, and letting go. The walls she had built around herself were crumbling. She shared her happiness and relief over their mental connection, which emboldened Eragon. He in turn shared his joy and excitement with her. No one can know the future but to hold back on life because of fear is no life at all. If they cared about each other that much than it was worth trying.

He felt her arms slowly slide to his stomach. Then she pushed him backwards and he fell in a heap. He was about to complain but Arya was quickly on top of him laughing at his awkward expression. The musical sound made Eragon forget about his sore bottom and he pulled her towards him. They kissed again, her body falling atop his. Their minds were joined together and pure happiness emanated from them both. Their moment together stretched on into eternity and Eragon allowed himself to get lost in the experience.

Eragon shifted his position slightly to fix a rock jutting into his back. The pair lay in the soft grass watching ghostly clouds drift across the moon. Eragon's arm held Arya while her head nestled in the crook of his neck. With his other hand he absentmindedly drew circles on her arm that was draped over his chest, rising and falling with each of his breaths.

Eragon felt more at peace now than he ever had in his entire life. As he lost himself in the moment a seed of thought took hold in his mind. It became clearer with each passing moment. A determination that he would strive for with all his might.

He couldn't leave Arya. Not now. Not after the moments they had shared. He would leave to help raise the dragons, just as he had planned, but he would also train. He would train as hard as possible to gain access to that wild energy again. And with that access he would return to Alagaesia and go on to cleanse Vroengard. He was going to return to this land he had fought so hard for.

He was going to return to her.

Eragon stole a glance at Arya, her eyes reflecting the millions of stars above them.

"You're staring at me," she said without looking at him.

"Maybe I am. What are you going to do about it?"

She moved her arm up his chest and pulled his chin towards hers, kissing him gently. She pulled back after a moment and rested her head back on his shoulder, sighing contently.

Eragon thought once again about his new plan. It was a good plan and it emboldened him, but he was still upset. Arya must have felt it over their connection because she propped herself up on her elbow to look at him.

"What's wrong?"

Eragon looked at her for a moment. "I don't want to leave you," he said softly, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. "I feel like I have finally found you and now I am about to let you slip through my fingers."

She picked up his hand and brought it to her lips, kissing it. "I don't want you to leave either. But I have to leave too." Eragon raised an eyebrow. "I have to go back to Ellesmira for the selection of the next ruler."

"Do you have any plans on ruling?"

Arya didn't respond for a moment, seemingly lost in thought.

"It would make the most sense if I succeeded my mother to the throne. It would be the logical decision."

"Logical, maybe. But is it what you want?"

"I'm not sure. I've never had any aspirations for the throne; I always pictured my mother sitting in it. Maybe this could be my way of honoring her. Maybe I am meant to carry on her memory by taking her place."

Eragon nodded. "You would make an amazing queen."

"Thank you. But I don't want to talk about it anymore. You are leaving tomorrow and I want to enjoy the time we have left." She leaned over kissed Eragon on the cheek and then softly on the lips. Eragon went to pull her towards him but she resisted.

"Did you hear that," she asked, eyes looking around.

"Hear what?"

"It sounded like a squeak. I- wait." She held up a hand for silence. Eragon strained his ears. Even with his heightened senses he didn't hear any squeaking. He was about to tell Arya it was probably nothing but she was already up. Eragon propped himself up on his elbows and watched Arya walk back to the rock he had found her crying on earlier. She went to the other side of it and returned with a shoulder bag that Eragon hadn't noticed before. He watched as she sat against the rock facing him and reached into the bag.

"What are you-" he began to ask but stopped when he saw her pull out the green dragon egg from before. She looked up at his stunned expression with apologetic eyes.

"I know I should have returned it to the inventory, but I just couldn't let it go. Something about it is so… special. I just wanted a little more time with it. I was going to bring it back tomorrow before I left."

Eragon was no longer looking at her, but instead was transfixed on the egg. Did it just move? Eragon told himself that he had imagined it but then he saw it shift in her hands.

No way.

Arya placed the egg before her as tiny hairline cracks spread over it surface. The egg swayed back and forth until a tiny green dragon head broke through the surface.

Saphira, get over here now! Eragon screamed through their mental link. He could feel his partner immediately take wing for their location.

The little dragon broke through the shell and shook off the last pieces of the egg that clung to its sinewy body. It looked around at its surroundings and noticed Arya staring wide-eyed at it. The dragon moved toward Arya and she extended her hand to it almost in a trance. The dragon closed its eyes and touched its snout to her palm. There was a flash of light and a tremor ran through Arya's body. When the light faded, the Gedwey Ignasia shined on her hand.

"That was incredible," she said in a daze. The dragon looked up at her and then seemed to loose interest as it pounced on the stalks of grass shifting in the wind.

The wind reverberated around them as Saphira came in to land. Eragon looked up at his dragon, beaming. He pointed to the little green dragon playing in the grass by Arya. He could feel Saphira's heart swell at the sight. She strode over to the small dragon and lowered her head to his level. The small dragon stopped playing when he noticed her.

Hello, little one, she said as she brought her snout to it. The small dragon playfully snapped at Saphira and then jumped at the grass again.

Congratulations, Arya, Saphira said shifting her attention. He will grow to be a very strong dragon.

"Thank you," she replied, still dazed. "I never actually thought he would hatch for me. He's had many opportunities before now."

You weren't ready. A dragon and its rider have to both be ready before the dragon will hatch.

"What will you name him?" Eragon asked. Arya watched the tiny dragon play for a while. Then she looked up and smiled.

"Firnen."