"AAAARGH!"

Eragon sat bolt upright in his bed, spitting out the cold, wet stuff from his mouth. Rubbing his eyes, he looked up to see Roran, grinning down at him evilly. In his hand was a ball of snow.

"NOOOO!" Eragon yelled again, ducking as his cousin aimed and fired. The snowball hit the tent with a dull flop, leaving a frosty imprint where Eragon's head had been previously. Before Roran could reach for another missile, Eragon tackled him to the ground. The two cousins wrestled for a minute before giving up, laughing and panting.

"Snow!" Roran gasped, pointing outside of the tent. Eragon shrugged- they had seen snow plenty of times in Carvahall. "In Surda!" Roran watched with glee as his cousin's eyes widened in delayed surprise. Snow? In Surda?!

"Really?" Roran nodded. "No!" Eragon pushed his way out of the tent, and gasped: the normally green landscape was dusted with a layer of white frosting, which was slowly building. The people of Surda were blinking worriedly at the flakes from inside their tents- they had never seen snow before, living in such a hot country- whilst the people of Carvahall and recruits from other cold regions were laughing and playing in the snow. Eragon, despite his years, felt the sudden urge to join the small boys in their snowball fights, but resisted it. Instead, he turned to Roran. "How?"

"Saphira," Roran grinned, his eyes on Horst, who had armed himself with snow and was glaring playfully at him. "Nasuada decided that we needed a morale boost."

It worked, thought Eragon, watching the children play, the mothers laugh, and the fathers wrestle and play fight. He grinned as he saw Saphira stomping through the snow. How did you do it? He asked his sapphire blue dragon in awe.

I don't know. I have told you, I have no more control over my magic than you do over the King.

Eragon put his hand on Saphira's shoulder, and looked up at her with a smile. Thank you.

She smiled in her strange, dragon way in response.

"Eragon!"

Arya, Eragon thought with a jolt, and turned eagerly to face her. He was met with a smiling elf- a rare expression for the beautiful princess- which was soon followed by… a faceful of snow.

"Blech!" He yelled, spitting out the icy substance for the second time in no more than five minutes. "What was that for?"

She just laughed, and threw another snowball at him.

"Right," Eragon pretended to scowl at the elf, but was delighted that she was happy again. This carefree, happy elf was less like the Arya he had known and more like the elf she had described to him all those moons ago around a campfire. An elf who would laugh, and dance, and sing.

An elf who could love.

Eragon refused to think about the enigma that was the beautiful woman before him whilst he could be having fun: instead, he reached down and scooped a handful of the snow. He threw it at Arya with a playful grin. She dodged it, and returned the smile, dazzling Eragon easily in the process.

"You'll have to do better than that, Shadeslayer," she called, and leapt away with a glance over her shoulder and a smile. Eragon grabbed some more snow and followed. She lead him away, out of the Eastern gate and through the snowy fields into the nearby woods. There, she turned and launched a hidden snowball at him. It hit him square between the eyes. Whilst Eragon wiped the snow from his face, Arya crowed.

"Right," Eragon growled again, pounding his snow into a ball. Arya scooped up another handful and they started to circle one another, crouched low.

Eragon? Saphira's curious voice filled her rider's mind. What are you doing?

Playing, Eragon replied gleefully. He showed her an image of him and Arya, circling one another as they were doing now. Saphira barely managed to conceal her surprise before she retreated a little from his head, still watching carefully.

Whilst Eragon and his dragon had been talking, the Rider and the elf had grown ever closer to one another. Their faces were nearly touching as they walked in slow circles, each waiting for the other to strike first. Eragon… Saphira warned him.

Don't be such a spoilsport, Eragon snapped at his dragon, but straightened up with a sigh. "Alright, I give up-" The rest of his sentence was obscured by Arya's soft lips, molding themselves to his. Eragon, this time, was the one to pull away, gasping. Arya smiled guiltily.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, although what for he did not know.

"I'm not," she replied impishly, and kissed him again.

Nasuada, sat in her large oak throne-like chair, sighed. She knew she really should listen to Jormundur, but she was finding it hard to concentrate. Besides, he was so… uninteresting.

"…and the food supplies are slowly diminishing…"

How could she concentrate when her mind was filled with Eragon? Eragon had gone into Nienna's tent for 'dinner', and had not come out again until early morning Eragon had left with Arya this morning, and had not been seen since. Eragon had not been seen since…

"…and we really should look at the figures- two recruits since…"

Eragon, Eragon, Eragon…

"…we really do need to do something, my lady!"

Eragon, Eragon…

"My lady?"

Nasuada blinked. Jormundur was staring down at her worriedly with round, innocent eyes. She sighed again. "I agree, of course." Agree to what?! She hadn't been paying any attention! "And I will certainly give it further attention. I suggest a walk in the clear, snowy air." Jormundur brightened, and began to hastily packed his bags of parchment and scrolls. "Alone."

The old man seemed to slump slightly, and his lips formed a childish pout. "Very well." And then he strode out of the tent, his chin high in the air.

It is no use, Nasuada realised. I must speak with him urgently.


Eragon.

Go away, Eragon grumbled mentally, pressing himself closer to the beautiful elf whose arms were tight around him. Her lips met his hungrily, like a starving man might attack a loaf of bread. He did not mind, though: he needed this just as much as she seemed to.

Eragon!

Shhhh!!

NASUADA IS COMING!

Eragon pulled away from the elf with a gasp. She did not seem to notice; she kissed his face, his neck, his throat, instead of his lips. It took all of Eragon's mental strength to push her away from him gently. She looked up at him in utter shock. "Nasuada is coming," he whispered to her. She gasped, and ran to hide. He began to follow her, but the elf pushed him back.

"No," she hissed. "She will wish to speak with you."

Eragon groaned, and pressed his lips to hers again desperately. She laughed and pushed him again. "Go!"

"Eragon?"

Nasuada's voice echoed through the trees, and Eragon automatically turned to meet the sound. When he turned back, the elf had gone.

"Eragon?"

"Here, my lady."

Eragon forced a smile as the woman stumbled into the clearing. She smiled widely at him, and approached, standing a little nearer than Eragon- or indeed Arya, concealed in a bush not far away, would have liked.

"Where have you been? We have been looking for you," Nasuada smiled. Was it just Eragon, or was her voice too smooth, her eyes too soft?

"Here," Eragon shrugged and gestured to the clearing in which they stood.

"I see. And will you be joining us again soon?"

"No. I wanted a peaceful, quiet walk in the snow, my lady."

Nasuada nodded. "Good. Well… there was something…"

She looked slightly nervous: Eragon took pity on her and smiled encouragingly. "Something I wished to talk with you about," Nasuada burst out. Arya, hidden in the trees, almost growled.

"Go ahead."

"I… well, it is difficult to explain, I…" the leader of the Varden looked up at the rider in desperation. Eragon smiled again.

"Explain however you can, my lady."

"However… I can?" Nasuada frowned. Eragon nodded. "Well in that case…"

Nasuada took a step toward the rider, freezing both him and the elf in the bushes in shock. The woman before him looked up at him, no longer nervous, with the steel spark of determination in her eyes. "I love you, Eragon," she whispered.

And then she kissed him.