It has been a long time since I have updated this story, and much has happened since my last update. When I started this story I was still a young High School student with no sense of responsibility, and very little respect for the world around me. Now in my fourth semester in college, I find myself thinking about how much I let down those who have read and reviewed my story. I have written much over the last few years, and I believe my style has changed quite dramatically from when I first started this story, so I must apologize in advance for a change in flow. I am, simply put, a different person. Much has changed for me over the past few years.

After setting up camp for the evening, Eragon and Arya had eaten a small dinner consisting of bread and fruit, huddled around the fire for warmth. Saphira had gone off into the wilderness to hunt for deer. After Eragon and Arya had finished with their food, they had both agreed to retire for the night. Saphira returned as they were preparing for sleep, and curled up around the campsite, her massive form shielding the two warriors from the elements and providing more warmth. They had soon fallen asleep.

That's when the familiar twang of an arrow being fired from a bow reached Eragon's sensitive ears. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he watched the wicked arrowhead plunge towards Arya's heart. In the firelight he could make out the glint of a poison tipped barb. Finally, time resumed its normal pace and Eragon found himself staring into Arya's shocked eyes as her fading body fell to the ground, her raven tresses framing her face.

Eragon woke with a start, his eyes wide and heart beating a wild tune in his chest, looking around frantically. In the dying light of the fire they had made he makes out Arya's peaceful, sleeping form. His heart calms slowly, having finally come to the realization that it was only a nightmare.

Little one? Came Saphira's worried, yet soothing voice.

Eragon looked up to find his beautiful sapphire dragon curled protectively around his prone form, looking down at him with concerned eyes.

It was only a dream… He whispers to himself, letting his almost questioning words flow across their bond.

Her concern only grows with his statement. She knew of his nightmares, and how he had been plagued by them for months. She curls her long neck around him, to where her head was blocking his view of the fire and Arya. One large blue eye blinks slowly at him. It was only a dream. She confirms for him gently. Eragon reaches out and gently strokes the underside of her strong jaw, right where she loved to be scratched the most. A deep, yet gentle rumbling reaches his ears, a sound Eragon recognized as Saphira purring, and he smiles.

Thank you Saphira, frica abr hjarta. (Friend of my heart) Came Eragon's gentle voice.

I am always here for you, little one. She responded. She had no need to ask him what It was he had dreamt about, for they shared a connection deeper than words. She had seen what he had seen.

I fear losing her too much, Saphira. Came Eragon's whisper across their bond. I fear what I would become should I lose her. That dream… the anger I felt towards the person who loosed that arrow… the rage I felt… He trailed off, unsure of how to express himself to her.

I understand, little one. You need not flounder for words to describe to me something that I felt and understood only moments ago. She closed her eyes, sighing softly, the grass in front of her nose for a few feet moving in the synthetic breeze.

What do I do, Saphira? He asked after a few long moments of silent contemplation.

Saphira opened one large, sapphire eye and observed him quietly for a minute, before responding in a thoughtful voice. You could speak with her.

Eragon blinked rapidly, before shaking his head. Nay, I doubt that would work, Saphira. I would likely say something that would endanger our friendship. I couldn't live with myself should I ruin what fragile a bond we have now. He finished almost dejectedly.

What makes you think the bond you two share is fragile, Eragon? Can you not see how much Arya has changed in the last few months? Think, Eragon. Think back to the interactions between you and Arya after the Agaetí Blödhren, and then compare them to the interactions between you two in the past week. She is opening up to you, and quite quickly at that. She is an elf Eragon, and she has lived for over a hundred years. These things take time, much more time for an elf, especially after what she went through at the hands of Durza. It has not yet been a year since her companions of several decades were killed and she was tortured, yet she is opening up to you. A record, if anything.

Realization seemed to dawn on Eragon at that moment, for his eyes widened slightly, before he slapped himself mentally for being so blind. She was right, he could talk to Arya. She was his closest friend.

Thank you Saphira, I will speak with her tomorrow when we make camp. She looked like she was troubled with something when we made camp tonight. I get the feeling she could use someone to talk to as much as I could. He scratched under her jaw one last time before lying back down on his back, gazing up at the stars through the shady canopy of the forest. Soon both he and Saphira fell asleep.

A tap to his arm was all it took for Eragon to instinctively reach out and grasp whatever it was that had touched him and roll, effectively pinning whatever; or whoever, it was underneath him. It took a few moments for his eyes to focus clearly on whatever he had pinned, and when he was finally able to focus, his eyes widened. His chocolate brown eyes met with deep emerald ones, and it was all he could do to suppress the gasp that threatened to escape his lips.

Arya's eyes were wide, and her lips parted slightly in surprise. She had obviously not been expecting such a violent and instinctual reaction from the young rider. He had her pinned with his much larger frame in the blink of an eye, his knee pressed hard into her groin, and her arms held tightly by the wrists above her head with one strong, calloused hand. His other hand was held at her throat, not quite squeezing, but not the gentlest hold either. Her hair splayed out like a fan underneath her, the raven locks contrasting her alabaster skin beautifully. Eragon couldn't help but notice how Arya's cheeks and neck were slightly red. He would have to ask her about her rash later, he thought slowly, before finally, after a few more spellbound moments, Eragon managed to regain control of his limbs and move, rolling them over and pulling them both to their feet in one swift, controlled movement.

"I apologize, Dröttningu, It was but a reaction." He said quickly after she had time to gain her footing and balance.

Arya did not respond immediately, taking a noticeable deep breath as if to steady herself. Eragon couldn't help but notice that the rash was still there, and his worry was growing, though his facial expressions did not convey that worry.

"There is nothing to apologize for, Shadeslayer…" She finally says, "I would be concerned if you were hard to wake." The rash was fading now, much to Eragon's relief. "If we are to make good time, we must depart shortly, I would like to make it to Gil'ead before sunset tomorrow." She says as she turns moves over to her side of the camp and busies herself with the repacking of her things.

Eragon takes a few moments to observe the scene, He had always admired the efficiency at which she worked when she set out to accomplish something. Lately, however, he had begun to appreciate more sinful things about her, especially when it came to her body in movement. Be it in combat or performing a mundane task such as packing her belongings, the sight caused his blood to run hot with desire. The desire to do some very-

Eragon! Saphira snapped at him, and he blinked, shaking his head as if clearing it of a fog. He blushed deeply, realizing he had been standing there staring at her body for the past minute, and no doubt looked a fool.

Thank you. He said before busying himself with the packing of his own bedroll and strapping his sword to his waist.

A few moments later and they both climbed up onto Saphira's Saddle and strapped themselves in. Arya's thighs clenched firmly around eragon's hips, and her slender arms wrapped around his waist, much to his pleasure. He would definitely have a hard time keeping his mind away from thoughts of Arya today. Such was his final thought before Saphira launched herself into the air and towards Gil'ead.

I pumped this out in one sitting, and if all things go according to plan, I will put out another chapter in the very near future. I want to apologize again for the long wait in between updates. I refuse to let this story just fade away and not finish it. The next chapter will likely be a very intimate chapter for Arya and Eragon, and the M rating will start coming into play then. I hope you enjoy the update.

P.S. I hope you guys are happy with what I did with the dream. :3