When she was drugged in captivity- if she had the energy- Arya would dream one of two dreams: the first- if she was lucky- of Eragon. She didn't know of him at the time, but she felt his presence, somehow. In the back of her mind, she'd known that someone was watching her. The second…

A dream of Faolin.

And it was that dream that Arya Drottningu dreamt that night. She dreamt of the night when her world had been so violently, unexpectedly been torn apart, leaving a bleeding hole in her chest where her heart should be.

Arya works silently at her desk. She has no reason to work, and that is not why she stays here: she's waiting. Faolin hasn't come to visit in days. She's seen him in the corridor, and at council meetings, but he seemed… distant. Guilty, almost. And now, on the eve of their departure with the Dragon's egg, and with the hopes and futures of thousands resting on her shoulders, she needs nothing more than to be with him… to be happy… She pushes her pen away, puts down her scrolls, and stands on stiff legs. Ignoring the protest of her long-inactive limbs- she's been sat at the desk for hours- she stretches, and hurries from her chamber.

On the way to Faolin's chamber, she reflects on the many happy months they've spent together: him teaching her how to sing the plants and trees into shape, a skill which the Queen had neglected to teach her, deeming it unimportant: her telling him of the stories of her youth, and him listening in disbelief as she told him of her youthful pranks and jokes; and the evenings and nights they'd spent together in their chambers… Arya blushes, although there is no one around to see it. Still, it is a happy blush. She is happy.

She, the princess of the elves, is in love.

Oh, the Queen doesn't approve, of course: she assumes that Faolin is distracting Arya from her duties. That may be part of why Arya clings closer to her love: to spite her mother. However, if that is one part, it is a small one. She loves him.

"Drottningu!"

Arya turns to see Amandil, a member of her mother's court, waving at her from down the path she has just walked down. He looks… worried. She smiles. "Amandil. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I merely wondered, Princess, if you have seen Faolin recently? He did not attend his training this morning," Amandil explains.

Arya frowns. "Really?" The male elf shakes his head slowly. "That is strange indeed, Amandil-vodhr. I have not seen him in many a day, either."

Amandil stares at the beautiful woman before him, a mixture of surprise and worry troubling his normally handsome face. Arya continues.

"However, I am going now to find him. Would you accompany me?"

Amandil nods briefly and the two fall into step with one another. Amandil examines the forest around him, a look of pure wonder on his boyish face, but Arya is much too preoccupied: Where is he? He has not been to training? Why? Many suspicions rage through her overactive mind, yet she pushes them aside. Faolin is her friend. More than her friend. He would not betray her.

As they approach Faolin's chambers, soft, girlish laughter and deep, manlike chuckles drift towards the pairs ears'. They frown at each other, and Arya pushes the wide door that separates Faolin's rooms from the outside world aside. And suddenly, her world is turned upside down. And behind her, Amandil gasps. And then, she gasps.

"You!" She screams, pointing. "YOU!"

Arya sat bolt upright in her bed, gasping, sweat mingling with the salt tears that ran down her face. Just a dream, she thought fiercely to herself. It was nothing but a dream.

But even thinking this, the elf had to admit that it had not been 'just a dream'. That was the night that her life had been ruined. The night she had relived what must have been a thousand times, both in sleep and in consciousness. The night that her happy, smile worn self had become…

This.

She threw the covers from her slender body and padded over to the gilded mirror on her desk. Ignoring the tears and sweat, she examined her pointed face: where once she had seen laugh lines, she saw frown lines. Where what might have been a smile she now sees thin, permanently pursed lips that no longer smiled. And her eyes… she couldn't look at her eyes. The light from them had gone. The sparkling emeralds were flat, green orbs that cried out in desperation. I wasn't always this way, Arya thought hopelessly, and forced herself to look again. Save me!

But that was what Eragon had been trying to do, she realized. She had been offered a way out of all her pain, all of her misery, and she had ignored it! She had brushed him aside!

But he had been more than an escape route. I love him, Arya acknowledged, hating the rush of pain and dull excitement that pierced her defeated mind at those three words. I love him.

Well, now there was nothing for it. With a sigh, Arya pushed herself out of her tent door and blinked in the darkness. Ignoring the nag of fear that begged for her attention, she took a deep breath and took a single step into the rain. The step fortified her, made her more sure of herself. She took another step. No turning back now, she thought grimly. And then she hurried into the darkness, leaving all certainty behind her.

Last chapter: "I did the same thing to Arya. I stole Faolin from her…"

Eragon stared at the elf with tears running down her face, sure he had misheard her. "I'm sorry?" He asked, barely managing to scrape little manners from the shocked blot his thoughts had become. Nienna blinked at him.

"I stole Faolin from Arya. I seduced him."

Eragon shook his head, a small smile on his face. "I'm sorry, I don't seem to be hearing you correctly. I could have sworn you said-" and then, Nienna watched with unhappy amusement as something slid into place in Eragon's mind. "Oh," he said. "Oh."

"Exactly." Nienna started to cry harder than ever, and through his shock Eragon felt a stab of pity. He slowly and hesitantly moved closer to the sobbing elf and put his arm around her. He stiffened when Nienna leaned into him, but she seemed not to notice. Slowly, he relaxed, allowing her to relax into his arms gratefully. She looked up at him with red rimmed eyes, framed by thick, wet eyelashes. Eragon was suddenly stunned by how close her face was to his. "Thank you," she whispered. Then, a flash of confusion crossed her pretty face. "Do you hate me?"

"No!" Eragon laughed, and Nienna smiled happily.

"Thank you," she repeated.

And her face got a little closer to his.

And closer again, until their lips were touching.

Eragon gasped and put his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace. The slender elf responded enthusiastically. Then-

"You!" Came an angry voice from outside of the tent. "YOU!"

AN: Blimey, I'm sorry I left it so long. Anyway…

Hope you enjoyed it! Thank you to all of my reviewers, especially my 200th reviewer (!!!!) FinnIrishDancer, who is in love with my story. Oh, and please don't punch a baby, Officer Rabbit… lol.

LoveMuchly,

Arya x