Hello everyone, I've decided to start making my chapter names more than one word. I'm just giving you guys a heads-up.

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Chapter 12:

Loved Ones

Arya blinked the sleep from her eyes, yawning widely. She got up, dressed, washed her face, and walked outside. The sunshine that pervaded the air was invigorating, all signs of wariness vanished from her face. She turned to find Eragon and Saphira standing by her tent. They trotted over to her, and she greeted them with a small smile.

"Good morning, Arya."

"Good morning. How are the two of you?" Saphira answered.

We are well. We were wondering if you would like to go flying with us. Arya could sense a spike in Eragon's temper; he obviously wanted to be the one to ask her to go. She could also sense a hint of amusement emanating from Saphira, Eragon's anger must be, in some way, funny to her.

"I would love to go." Saphira had already been outfitted with her saddle. Eragon leaped onto the saddle, and then he proffered a hand to her. She took it, and he pulled her onto the saddle.

"Put your legs in the straps, I'll secure them."

"I don't want to be the only one secured." She objected.

"It's fine; I'll use the arm straps."

"No." She denied him again. But he insisted. He slid her legs into the loops and tightened them; he then inserted his arms into the bands at the top of the saddle and secured them as well. Arya quickly wrapped her arms around Eragon's waist.

Let's go Saphira!

Hold on tight! She bounded into the air, flapping her wings vigorously. Dust billowed around the spot they had just occupied; the cloud of dirt eventually dissipated. The whole way up Eragon and Saphira laughed, but Arya wasn't used to such heavy acrobatics. Bile rose, but she fought back her feelings and subdued them, though she was not entirely successful. She still had a hole in her stomach, a hole that, at the slightest provocation, could cause her to vomit.

For over an hour they flew, Arya had gotten better after she became accustomed to the twisting and turning. They had to land soon though, because Saphira was tired, she wasn't used to the weight of two people. After that, they stopped flying altogether. They sat in a field that had a stream running through the middle. Flowers lay on the field like a blanket; the open space was covered with them.

Arya looked over at where Eragon was sitting by Saphira; he wasn't there. Saphira lay on her side, curled up like a cat. She instantly became alert. She looked around and quickly found him. He was walking towards her with a bouquet of flowers. It contained lilies, pansies, violets, daisies, and white roses which surrounded a small black bud. She looked at Eragon whose lips were moving, and her eyes grew soft. She gasped just as he reached her and took the bouquet. In the middle of the whole arrangement, surrounded by white roses, was a Black Morning Glory.

She marveled at its beauty. It was the most perfect one she had ever seen. It had four silky smooth petals, a thin, long stem with the occasional leaf. And in the middle was a blast of electric blue. A single tear dropped off her face. She plucked a long blade of grass from the ground and tied the arrangement together.

"Do you like it?" He asked happily.

"Eragon I-I…I love it.," she looked up, "And I love you." She stood up and kissed him so passionately upon the lips that all the flowers in the meadow grew a full inch and the bouquet in her hands grew too. The Black Morning Glory sprouted another petal, as if that somehow completed things in the world. Saphira roared at the sky from the energy and love that emanated from their touch. Eragon looked at her; her roar was abnormally long. He pulled away from Arya; Saphira's mouth wasn't open. His eyes got wide as the roar continued to get louder.

"Shit!" He cursed loudly. He ran over to his sword where it lay and picked it up, with Arya trailing behind. He clipped Brisingr to his belt; he turned back to her. "Arya you have to stay here."

"No, I'm coming with you." He cupped her cheek with his hand.

"I love you Arya, but you have to stay." She was ready to object further but he was already running towards Saphira. He leaped onto her and she immediately took off, leaving Arya alone, a single being in a lonely meadow.

Eragon's POV:

A flash of red, a streak of blue, the world flashed by in a mosaic of whirling colors. Eragon heard Saphira roar under him, and then he saw a blast of light from his left. "Skolir nosu fra brisingr!" He was a little too late. A raging inferno enveloped his face and leg. The burning was unbearable, and he was undyingly grateful to all the gods for the relief when it came.

He healed himself quickly, and then drew Brisingr. He swung it experimentally, smiling at it how light it was. He looked to the east to see Thorn turn towards them. The red beast barreled through the air and straightened just in time for Murtagh to swing. Eragon parried, and with that single blow, he knew it would be as hard to beat him as it was on the Burning Plains. He cursed, thinking, I'm gonna need everything I've got.

The fight was longer than usual. Murtagh and Eragon exchanged blows occasionally, but, as always, most of the fight was aerial combat. Throughout the battle Eragon could feel Arya lending her energy to him. Saphira also gave an amount of her vitality, which seemed so massive that Eragon stored it in Aren. Thorn turned around, and just before the two dragons collided, Saphira did a flip, in the middle of which she twisted, so that she ended up facing Thorn's tail. She clamped her mighty jaws onto it; keeping hold as the crimson dragon twisted and writhed, attempting to throw her off. He turned around and struck at Saphira's neck; she recoiled which ripped off half of Thorn's tail. He roared in agony; blood streamed from the stub. Murtagh yelled, creating a battle cry in which they screamed in unison. He scowled, and brandished his sword. He twirled it once. His lips moved, but Eragon didn't know what he was saying. Murtagh pulled his arm back…and threw his sword. Murtagh's speed and strength combined with his Eldunari sent the sword flying at what seemed like light-speed.

Eragon tried to dodge it, but was too slow. Zar'roc impaled him in the stomach. Saphira tensed below him, it was a motion that seemed like a dream to him. Thorn had flown higher while Saphira was preoccupied with Eragon. He dove, and grabbed Saphira's neck.

"Submit to us, and we will mercifully take you back to Galbatorix." Murtagh had again enhanced the volume of his voice. Saphira whimpered. All hope was gone.

We submit.

Hey guys, I want 14 reviews and then I'll post the next chapter. Thanks guys.

Eragon