AN: Alright, I'm stuck. Utterly and completely stuck. That's why this is so bad and short... sorry! If anyone has any ideas for me, I'd love to hear them. Help!

The expected meeting of the Varden 'elders' to discuss the recent battle took place early in the morning of the next day. As usual, they met in Nasuada's tent to discuss strategies and the effect the fight had had on them. What was not so normal, however, was that Eragon was the first in the tent.

"Eragon," Nasuada smiled gleefully, rising from where she was sat on the edge of her bed. Eragon returned the smile and approached her.

"I wondered if I might ask you something, my Lord," she said hesitantly, her eyes not on Eragon's but rather on the hem of her dress' sleeve, which she picked at. Eragon caught her hand and she stopped.

"Ask me anything. I have no secrets from you," he replied, amused by her apparent nervousness.

"Well-"

"Lady Nasuada!"

The pair broke apart to look at the tent door as Arya, Blodhgarm and Jormondur appeared at it, pushing aside the folds of material. Jormondur limped forward, placing looking at Nasuada before sitting. When she nodded, smiling graciously, he sat, and Nasuada indicated that everyone else should be seated.

Nasuada took the seat to Eragon's right. Arya took the one to his left.

Queen Islanadi stared into the basin of water her maid had collected moments before. Plunging her hands into it, she splashed her face and rubbed vigorously. She knew that she was trying to erase the events of the night before, and this irritated her; I am a Queen! I should be able to carry out meaningless tasks without it troubling me for days to pass!

But the Queen knew that this was no meaningless task; she had broken the heart of her only daughter. And that, to any parent, is never meaningless.

As the Queen stared back into the pool once more, watching the ripples smooth themselves slowly until the basin's surface resembled a glassy pond, she realised what she had to do. It would be easy, for her- for Arya, it would mean more pain... the concept of causing her daughter more pain made the Queen quite uneasy, but she had to do it. To save Arya from herself...

"Bring me Nienna," she called to her maid.

Arya could not concentrate. The words that Jormondur was speaking were of vital importance to the Varden and to the Elves, she knew, but they held no meaning to her. Not when Eragon sat beside her.

This is ridiculous! She frowned, and tried once more to cast all thoughts of the dragon Rider next to her out of her head once more- once more, to no avail. With an internal sigh, she succumbed to her thoughts.

I should not have kissed him, she thought fiercely- but this time, her anger was enveloped in some sort of grief. She mourned. She mourned Faolin, and all that he had taken to the grave along with him; she mourned Oromis and Glaedr; and most of all, although it sickened her to admit, she mourned the love that she was burdened with. The love that would not grow. Could not grow.

Arya could not help but curse her mother for the decision she had made, but knew that she was right in all that she had said; emotion weakens us. I would be a fool to let it weaken me- especially in my current position of power. I do it for Ellesmera. And with that thought Arya fought off a strange rush of fierce pride. It mingled with the grief that she held within her, and she acknowledged that.

This is who I am. This is what I have to be.

This is what my mother is! Not I! She countered herself.

I will one day be in her position. I will one day have to judge as dispassionately and unpredjudiced as she. Why not save myself the heartache and start now?

Arya groaned inwardly and wished that she was back in Ellesmera where she belonged.

Eragon fidgeted. Try as he must, he could not concentrate on the speech that Jordomur was giving: he could focus only on the two women on either side of him. Every few minutes, he would glance at each one; both woman and elf focused intently on the speaker, shaming him. They ridiculed him with their proffesionality as he floundered with his personal matters.

Leave this, now! He ordered himself angrily. More desperate matters are at hand than... than a meaningless kiss on the battlefield!

This revelation left Eragon quitedownhearted; was it meaningless? Had Arya really intended for that kiss to be nothing more than a friendly exchange?

I'm sure it's part of some sort of elf ritual, he assured his better half, the half of him which did not want to dwell on such trivia when more important things were at stake. But try as he might to convince himself, he was sure that he had not read or been taught anything about Elves kissing one another, even as a symbol of grattitude and friendship, whilst he was with Brom or Oromis.

His worse side, the side that wished to relive and revisit that scene on the battlefront over and over no matter the consequences, gloated at this. Eragon groaned inwardly, and wished that he was back in Palancar Valley where he belonged.

Nasuada itched at the scars at her wrist, wincing as she did so. As important as the speech Jormodur was giving was- well, she thought it was- she could not for the life of her concentrate on it. Not with Eragon next to her. She kept her eyes on Jormodur all the while, and it gave her great satisfaction to note that Eragon kept taking sideways glances at her. He looked at Arya, too, which annoyed her somewhat, but deep down she knew that if this came to a contest for the Rider's love, she would win- of course he was attracted to Arya, the shiny trinket that all men gazed upon. But she was no mere trinket; pretty, yes, but also joyful and wise and, most of all, warm. Not like the elf.

She sighed with contentment that she would soon win his heart, and wished to be nowhere else other than where she was.

Jormodur smiled to himself: he could not have asked for a more riveted audience. All four of them stared right at him, there eyes glazed with empathy and enthusiasm as he told them his strategies for the next battle. His chest jutted out with pride and he wished that his wife were here to see him now...

Well, whaddaya think? I'm not entirely sure what the Queen should do with Nienna. I think she should be sent to the Varden to watch over Arya, under the cover of assisting her, but what she gets up to there... I don't know... any ideas?

LoveMuchly

Arya x