AN: Thank you guys so much on the reviews- the really speed up my work. I just want to answer a few questions:
1)Will there be a catfight?
As much as the idea appeals to me, no. However, I am in the process of writing up the catfight, and it will appear on my profile separately as soon as it is done.
2)Did you not know that Arya's hair is black?
Um… oops?
3)Why was the last chapter so short?
Because it took me ages to write up the battle scene, and I didn't want to rush it. Sorry- I will try to make this one longer.
I will be rewriting this, so keep the suggestions coming! Now… on with the show!
It took Eragon a moment to remember where he was; one second, his head was full of thoughts of Arya- the next, they were even more confused than normal by the mass of war cries and the sound of bow strings being released that filled the air.
Concentrate, Eragon! Saphira bellowed mentally.
Sorry/ Let us fly! He replied hastily, drawing Brisingr. Saphira leapt from the ground with a joyful roar, giving the nearby members of the Varden a momentary advantage as their opponents looked up and cried out in terror at the sight.
Eragon watched the fighting from above as Saphira circled the battleground, occasionally loosing an arrow in the direction of an enemy or dipping to the ground to help a friend in need. About half an hour into the battle, Eragon saw Roran frowning in concentration as he tackled three men at a time. Longing to fight beside his cousin once more, Eragon leapt off a disgruntled Saphira and engaged one of the men fighting Roran. Roran acknowledged him with a quick nod, but never took his eyes from his opponent. When he had felled both of them with two ferocious knocks of his hammer to their heads, he turned to face his cousin, although both men looked to the surrounding fighting, wary. "I make that… nineteen. You?"
"Ha! Four-and-twenty!" Eragon crowed.
Roran opened his mouth to answer, his eyes narrowed, but at that moment Saphira landed before to the two of them. Her eyes glinted angrily.
What do you think you are playing at? This is not a place for idle chatter and contests! This is a battle ground! She roared, and swept Eragon off the ground with her teeth, swinging him onto her back. Eragon looked down at his cousin to apologise, shamefaced, but Roran was already engaged. Saphira took flight immediately, beating her sapphire wings furiously.
Sorry, Saphira. I-
Leave it! Nasuada requires your assistance.
A thrill of fear grasped Eragon with those words, and he gripped Brisingr tightly. What was I doing?! He wondered. Making idle conversation whilst my friends suffered! Shock and frustration swept through him, making him shiver. He surveyed the fighting below him once more; Arya fought ferociously with several men, her long thin sword a blur in the morning light as she twirled, whipping the blade through the air. Eragon felt a pang of worry, but soon dismissed it- Arya was more than capable to deal with the mere mortals below. He almost felt sorry for the men.
As Saphira pressed on, Eragon felt a lone mind fighting furiously against the walls in his head. Panicking, he fought back, but soon abated as he recognised the voice as Blodhgarm's. About time, the elf thought, a little testily. I have been trying to reach you for some time now! Nasuada is in desperate need of help.
We're on our way, Eragon assured him.
Good to hear it, Shadeslayer. The elf seemed to hesitate slightly, but continued. Stay safe. For Ar- all our sake's.
A little puzzled, Eragon agreed, shielding his mind once more as Blodhgarm withdrew.
What was that about? He asked Saphira.
I don't know, but we're nearly there. Hold on!
Eragon gripped Saphira's saddle tightly as she dived towards the ground. From there, he soon spotted Nasuada; her guards lay slain around her, and she was surrounded by a number of attackers. Although she was skilled with the sword, she was no match for all of the ten men that approached her.
With a fierce war cry, Eragon thrust Brisingr into the air. The men below looked up at him in horror, and Nasuada took this lapse of concentration to her advantage, stabbing one man through the chest before he knew what was happening. Eragon leapt off Saphira and stood back to back with Nasuada as Saphira let out a burst of flame in the direction of four of the attackers nearest her; the jet of blue flame blinded the rest of them momentarily, but Nasuada, who had her back to Saphira, lunged forward and plunged her sword into a man's chest, causing him to scream with pain. Eragon hurriedly muttered a spell that would help him to regain his sight and together he and Nasuada disposed of the rest of the soldiers.
Panting, the two looked up at each other, the adrenalin pulsing through both of them clear in their eyes. Eragon offered Nasuada his hand, and she took it. He helped her up on to Saphira, and they flew.
From below, Arya Svitkona watched with dismay as the pair flew away from the battle. Was it just her, or was Eragon's arm clasped much too tightly around Nasuada's waist? She looked away, grinding her teeth.
God help the next mortal that challenged her today…
"Where are we going?" Nasuada yelled above the wind.
"Back to the fight, of course!" Eragon replied. Nasuada nodded, and they grasped their weapons once more. Saphira landed- knocking several men into the air with her wings and tail as she did so- and Nasuada climbed down. She smiled sweetly at her rescuers, despite the danger of their situation.
"Stay safe," she called to Eragon, and ran back into the fray.
After the battle, members of the Varden scoured the battle field fo
r survivors and the wounded; Arya was among them. She grasped the hands of those whose wounds she or any healer could not heal, and sang to them softly in the Ancient language. Soon, their grimaces turned to expressions of happiness and peace, and they closed their eyes for the last time. She alerted the Varden's healers to those who would have a chance of survival with her mind, and they sent the unscathed to the battleground to escort them to the healer's tent. This process seemed to last hours to Arya. It always does.
Normally, the high ranking members in the Varden (Nasuada, Arya, Eragon and others) would meet in Nasuada's tent after a fight, to discuss strategies and survey the cost the battle had had on them, but today several of those people were injured or speaking with their people, so the meeting was postponed. Rather than sit around waiting for something to do, Arya had volunteered her services Nasuada.
Nasuada had seemed all too happy to have her out of the way.
She sighed, rocking back onto her heels and wiping blood from her fingers as she examined the fourth surviving man she had found. He'll live, she decided, and contacted the Varden. I've found another. Send help.
The reply was instant. Of course, Lady Arya.
There was nothing to do now but wait, she supposed.
"Eragon! Eragon!" Eragon turned, slightly wary, as his name was called. He inclined his head to Blodhgarm as he approached. "Another survivor has been found. Would you mind…?"
Sighing, Eragon agreed and climbed wearily onto Saphira's back once more. After this, bed, she decided. Eragon happily agreed.
Saphira threw herself into the sky tiredly, and they made their way towards the battleground and the survivor.
It had been five minutes now, and the survivor was getting cold. He frowned and whimpered in pain, no matter how much Arya tried to sooth him. Frustrated, the elf looked up to see where the man's saviour's were, flushing angrily as she automatically looked towards the skies. Stop that, now, she berated herself. Stop thinking about him!
Grinding her teeth, she looked up once again, only to have her jaw drop as she saw…
Eragon! Oh no, oh no…
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Arya tried to still her frantically beating heart. When that failed, she sighed, and resigned herself to wait for her rescuers.
Saphira landed as softly as she could, and Eragon climbed down from her back. He ran towards the casualty, but stopped as he noticed Arya standing over him, watching Eragon approach. Forcing his limbs to respond, he walked towards the man and his rescuer as calmly as he could.
Behind him, Saphira rolled her eyes.
"Um, thank you, Arya." Eragon lifted the man easily- but not at all gently. His eyes were still on the elf before him. She smiled, and he smiled in response before turning towards Saphira again. Arya's arm caught his, and he turned back to her.
"Thank you." She said simply.
"For what?"
"For staying safe."
Before he could reply, Arya put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him chastely on the lips once before turning and running towards the next man.
AN: Well, tell me what you think! This chapter was a little longer, but I'm not so sure I like this one. It needs work, definitely, but I'm not sure what needs doing… let me know! All suggestions are welcome!