"Lady Nasuada?" Nasuada turned to face the door of the Aid Tent, where the she was visiting the injured warriors that had fallen during the last few battles. She did this as often as her other duties allowed her to, and often her visits were halted or disturbed by other duties demanding attention- as they were now. The man at the door bowed. "Queen Islazandi seeks an audience with you in your tent immediately."
"Thank you." The man bowed himself out of the tent and Nasuada sighed, smiling apologetically at the soldier she had been conversing with before hurrying out of the tent.
Upon reaching her own tent, Nasuada glanced up at the small mirror that adorned the corner of her bedroom; there, as she had expected, the Queen's image waited. Nasuada curtsied to her, approaching. "Atra esterní ono thelduin."
"Un du evarínya ono varda."
Seating herself before the mirror on her wooden arm chair, Nasuada looked up at the elvin Queen with a smile. "You wished to speak with me."
"Yes. I've decided to add another spellcaster to the force that protects you and the Varden."
Nasuada frowned. "I was under the impression that Blodhgarm and the others were doing a fine enough job of that."
The Queen smiled, but it was not an easy smile that graced her beautiful face. "Yes, they are- this is, for once, not a case of protection but superstition. There are thirteen elves among your forces. You may not have been informed, but thirteen is an extremely unlucky number amongst the elves."
Nasuada nodded. "I see… so when can we expect the new addition?"
A strange expression appeared on her correspondent's face for a fleeting second, but Nasuada's sharp eyes caught it; it was one of relief. "Within one week."
Nasuada nodded once more. "Of course. Well, I really must-"
"Of course," the Queen cut her off. "Thank you." And with that, the image on Nasuada's mirror vanished.
The leader of the Varden stayed frozen in her seat for a minute. Something about that had seemed… odd… she shook it off. After all, the elves were always odd…
For a few moments- minutes, really- Eragon was blissfully happy. More happy than he had ever been. Because the woman he had loved for so long, the woman who had lead him so far, was finally right beside him.
Kissing him.
And for a few minutes, Arya, too, was joyfully complete. She ignored the nagging voice at the back of her mind- a voice that sounded uncannily like her mother's- and concentrated on nothing but the Rider before her, and how happy she was. Happier than, although it pained her to admit it, she had ever felt- even during her time with Faolin. She swept aside the guilt that suddenly possessed her.
When the nagging voice's murmurs turned to shrieks, she could no longer ignore it; with a gasp, she pulled her lips from those that belonged to Eragon. He wore a delighted smile upon his face, and it broke her heart to know that she must soon be the one to remove such a decadent smile from his handsome face. She did not have to wait: when he noticed her pained expression, the smile slid away quickly and his expression of elation turned to one of worry, fear and outright confusion.
"Arya?" He asked hesitantly, "is something wrong?"
She wiped the pain from his face- he couldn't be allowed to know how much this hurt her- and closed her eyes. It was easier that way. "This is wrong."
He did not speak for a long while, but Arya resisted the urge to open her eyes. She could only guess at the emotions that crossed his elf-like face- hurt, confusion, pain…
"Wrong?" His polite tone made Arya wince; in his voice she found only the slightest hint of pain she had feared.
"Yes." Arya did not bother to replicate the Rider's polite tone- instead, she put no emotion whatsoever into her voice, giving it a flat, dead quality.
"How so?" He used the same polite voice, but this time more anger seeped into it. Although his anger stung Arya like a wasp, it made it easier- somehow- for her to hurt him. It hurt her less.
"Just look at us!" She burst out, and fought to control the self-loathing and pain that made her usually silken voice waver. "An elf and a human- that is not right. You should be with one of your own kind."
"You seem to forget, Arya-elda" –the use of Arya's formal name made her cringe- "but I am no ordinary human. I, unlike others among my race, shall live forever. What use is it if I take a mate that is mortal when she should die so long before I? It would only cause me unnecessary heart ache."
Barzul, Arya cursed violently. He is right, of course… fishing desperately for arguments, Arya countered him weakly. "You could take another wife when the first had died."
"I am not that sort of man, Arya! You know that."
Yes, of course… the ever virtuous Eragon. She did not think it harshly- quite the opposite; this quality had been one she had always admired of Eragon. She pressed on; "I am the only heir to my race's throne. The elves would expect me to take an elvin husband."
This quieted him- as educated as Eragon was, he did not indeed know if this were true. A grim sort of satisfaction swept through Arya when she realized that her victory was near, dulled by the pain that this victory brought her. When Eragon spoke again, he abandoned the polite tone and formalities, allowing his pain to show. "You are the only one I want."
Arya opened her eyes now, her face as cold as she could possibly could arrange it, and her resolve weakened considerably at the sight of the usually strong Rider stood before her with unashamed tears in his eyes. She looked not into those wet-rimmed eyes but at the trees above his head as she rejected him coldly. "Do I have to remind you that it is not the other way around?"
Her words had an immediate effect; Eragon stumbled backwards, and Arya refrained from weeping as the pain on his handsome, elfish face became almost unbearable. Soon, he regained control of his emotions and his face was as unreadable as Arya's.
"Leave."
"Of course."
Eragon turned and walked without hesitating toward the clearing where Saphira was, at that very moment, landing. Arya waited until he had vanished from sight and she saw Saphira flying far above the mountain to collapse upon the ground. She pulled her knees into her chest and hugged them tightly as tears spilled onto her cheeks. She showed no restraint to the emotions that shook her whole frame as she thought, for you, mother.
Wiol ono.
AN: Well, I'm sure you all hate me now. Sorry it took so long. Again, I won't be updating until I receive TWENTY-FIVE reviews! So get reviewing!!
LoveMuchly,
Arya x