A/N: First off, I would really like to apologize for the extremely late update, and i hope i dont loose any readers because of it. Basketball and school have been taking up alot more of my time than I originally thought.

Second, I would like to thank Julian Blake, rainbowsix, SnowChika, The Sun Also Rises, melissita, Marshall88, and blahblahblah123456789 for reviewing and helping me decide where to go with the Eragon pairing.

Aroughs

The wind whipped through Eragon's hair as Saphira flew, and his ears rang from the concussions of her wings. Early that morning, Nasuada had summoned him to the courtroom for a war council with the other important officials, interrupting his fantasies of Arya brought on from the night before. Apparently, scouts had confirmed that Empire soldiers had abandoned the cities of Melian and Aroughs in order to reinforce both Belatona and Dras-Leona. Melian was the next target of the Varden and Nasuada had wanted to know if capturing Aroughs was necessary.

Orrin, along with the majority of the council, believed that taking the city would be both a waste of time and personnel. The decision had almost been made until Saphira gave her input. 'Every day the Varden moves closer to Uru'baen and their goal. However, outnumbered as we are we must take every precaution in order to ensure a greater chance of success. Aroughs is the only remaining port city under the Empire's control in the south.' Swiveling her head she rested her sapphire gaze upon each of the council members, lingering for a moment on Orrin. 'Though the city may be helpless now, you cannot allow the Empire to have any way of catching us off guard if it is preventable.'

Nasuada nodded her head, accepting Saphira's reasoning and brought the meeting to a close asking both Eragon and Saphira to stay behind. He waited patiently, his hands clasped behind his back, until the room was empty aside from the three of them. "Now, while I agree with Saphira's reasoning," she glanced at Saphira who let out a puff of smoke through her nostrils. "I must say the Orrin and the others had a point. We cannot afford to lose soldiers since, as you mentioned, the Empire vastly out-numbers us. Even with minimum casualties those soldiers would be far behind the bulk of the army and would either delay our campaign or make the siege of Belatona more difficult."

"What would you have us do, Mil'ady?" he asked in a tone that said, 'Get to the point'.

She smiled at him before saying "You and Saphira will fly south to Aroughs and take the city. Alone." Eragon's eyes widened slightly but he said nothing. "As you know the Empire's soldiers have fled the city leaving only the city guard to defend it. Also I would imagine that any capable magicians would have left with the Empire leaving it virtually defenseless against the two of you. If you accept," she paused glancing at him and he gave a slight nod of his head in agreement. "Then I only ask that you do not attack at once and attempt to persuade them to join our cause." After he agreed she dismissed him and he and Saphira had left immediately.

They had flown through the day and were now nearing the city. Saphira pointed out a large wooded area to the north of the city and they landed for a quick meal and some rest. Eragon sat against Saphira, a small fire in front of him, eating slowly as his mind began to wander. As always, this quickly led to unbidden thoughts of Arya. Memories of their times spent together, both good and bad, along with his hopes and fears of their future relationship.

Three memories stuck out in his mind, the first of which was the most painful. Arya's rejection had left a permanent scar on Eragon's heart, and to this day he had yet to fully recover from the agony it had left him in. In the weeks following his heartbreak, his self-confidence had left him, and it was only thanks to Saphira that he was able to focus at all on his studies.

The next memory was far better, and though it was a happy one, it had further diminished his hopes. Sitting around the campfire outside Eastcroft had been a pleasant experience, and Arya had opened up to him revealing many details of her past. He relished the closeness they had shared, and yet at the same time hated it. She had confided in him as a friend and nothing more, and while it was a great step in the right direction he found himself wanting more.

Finally, there was the most recent memory he had with Arya. Dancing with her had been wonderful, even more so since she had asked him. Adding to this was an almost undetectable change in her demeanor, small things that one would only notice if they spent a large amount of time with and around the elf. The slight brightening of her eyes as he agreed to dance with her, the way she held his hand as she led him to the dance floor. Small, subtle things that, had there not been an abundance of them, he would have passed off as his imagination.

'Saphira?' he asked, raising his eyes to stare at the sky above.

'Yes?' She replied, fixing him with a large sapphire eye. Unbeknownst to him, she had heard all of his previous thoughts and recalled those same memories, only from her point of view.

'Do you think that, perhaps, Arya may have changed her mind?' Though many people may have found the question vague and unclear, Saphira would've known what he meant regardless of the fact she had just shared the thoughts that had brought on the question.

'Oh Little One, why do you trouble yourself with this now? There are few things you can do to change her feelings for you, and constantly tormenting yourself with visions of the past and future is not one of them.'

He sighed and lowered his gaze to the ground beside him, picking mindlessly at the grass. 'I know,' he paused, looking back up into her eye, 'but sometimes I just can't help it. I love her Saphira. I love her, and the worst thing is she doesn't even believe it.'

Her gaze softened as she looked down at her Rider. She nuzzled him gently with the end of her snout in an attempt to comfort him. In the distance the sun could be seen growing ever closer to the waters of the sea. Saphira stood up, stretching her muscles and then said to Eragon, 'Come Little One, I believe it is time that we greet the soldiers of Aroughs'.

* * * * * * *

Men walked back and forth across the battlements, outfitted in chain-mail and leather armor. A white lion was painted across the leather breastplate, and sewn on the left shoulder was the respective person's family crest. Artemis, a boy of 17, was similarly dressed. He had joined the city guard of Aroughs only several weeks ago, after hearing of the defeat of Feinster. Already his duties had become dull and repetitive, not at all what he had expected. The older men sat in groups, drinking and laughing the night away leaving the younger and less-experienced men to make the rounds.

Currently he sat on the parapet along the northern wall looking out across dry grasslands wishing for some action.

"Boy! Shouldn't y'be makin' yer roundshh?" A man of around forty had come up behind Artemis. He was obviously drunk as his words were slurred and he had an awfully hard time walking even just a few steps.

"Yes sir," he said, saluting "I'll get going right away."

"Good. An' don lemme ca-" His was cut off as a resounding crash echoed throughout the city. Turning his gaze to the direction the noise came from he found its source. Clinging to one of the spires of the keep was an enormous blue dragon.

The world itself seemed silent as the dragon brought it's gaze across the city. A vibrant red sun sat in the background, painting the surrounding sky in various pinks and oranges, all reflected flawlessly on the ocean's surface below. Beautiful sunsets such as these were not at all uncommon for coastal cities and Aroughs was no exception. In fact, the sunsets were one of its few tourist attractions.

Artemis found it interesting that one change to this typically routine happening produced a completely different result. The sunlight was reflected gloriously of the dragon's scales in a way that no precious metals or gems could compare. It held it's head proudly, seemingly aware of it's regal appearance. Ironically, the dragon's position on the spire placed it almost perfectly between the sky and its reflection on the water, the dragon was the perfect balance between ethereal beauty and raw power.

A ferocious roar broke the stunned silence the city had succumbed to, and was immediately followed by screams of terror and guards shouting orders. A second, even louder roar drowned out all other noise bringing the city once again to an eerie calm. All eyes were on the dragon as it snorted a jet of flame from its nostrils. It looked around the city again before fixing it's stare at a point along the northern wall. Following the dragon's gaze Artemis found himself looking at the city's main gate, which seconds later was blown apart with a thunderous "boom" sending pieces of wood in every direction, clattering against the buildings.

The smoke cleared to reveal a single man standing amidst the rubble, a gleaming blue sword hanging loosely in his hand.

* * * * * * *

It took all of Eragon's willpower to keep a smirk off his face as he looked at the terrified expressions on the men's faces. One man lay on the ground moaning in pain, a piece of wood from the gate lodged in his leg.

'Might I make a suggestion?' Saphira said, dropping from the spire and gliding over to land beside him.

'Aye, you may.'

'If you have to kill someone, try to do it as humanely as possible.'

'Ah… care to explain?' He said, turning to look at her.

'I mean that decapitating a man in front of the entire city would not be a good way to persuade these men to join our cause.'

"Rider! What is your business here in Aroughs?" asked one of the guards in a challenging voice. Only several of the guards had not drawn there weapons and five bold men were slowly advancing on Eragon.

"I have come to speak with the Lord of Aroughs; I bring a message from Lady Nasuada of the Varden." He replied in a calm and diplomatic tone. The five men were now only about thirty feet away and had stopped in front of him with their weapons at the ready. A low rumbling came from Saphira's throat, causing them to take several steps back assuming it was a threat. Eragon however, knew it to be her laughter.

A tall, thin man stepped forward from the lines of men. His armor was of a finer make and well polished, as well as the elegant sword in his hands. "I am Lord Vernon Rider. What is this message you speak of?" he spoke in a deep and arrogant voice, a stark contrast to his physical appearance.

"Lady Nasuada wishes to know if you will aid us in our campaign against the Black King, Galbatorix. Lady Lorana of Feinster has already agreed and pleads for you to do the same." He stared in to the Lord's eyes and noticed the he seemed to be struggling with some inner conflict. "You have sworn oaths of fealty to Galbatorix, have you not?"

Vernon's face hardened and he glared at Eragon. "Aye, I have." He paused and looked to the ground, sighing. As he returned his gaze to Eragon he said, "You should not have come Rider. Kill him."

Again he struggled to keep from laughing but managed to keep his face devoid of emotion. The five men closest to him rushed forward but he did not even look at them. Instead he kept his eyes locked with Lord Vernon's and entered the minds of the five men. They fell dead ten feet from him as he breathed one of the twelve words of death, and narrowed his eyes at the ruler. Gasps of shock rose from the other soldiers who had now stopped in their tracks.

"Lord Vernon, if you wish I can negate your oaths to the King. However, if you remain uncooperative I have been ordered to take this city by force."

Laughter escaped his lips as he looked back at the men behind him. "And how would you do that? You are but one man Rider, and I have a good three thousand soldiers at my command. How can you possibly hope to take this city alone?"

A ghost of a smile appeared on Eragon's face as he replied, "Aye, I am only one man. You are wrong though, to assume I would be taking this city alone. I believe you have forgotten the very thing that gives me the title of 'Rider'." He cast a sideways glance at Saphira and she snorted in agreement. Looks of unease spread across the faces of the soldiers, and even Lord Vernon paled slightly. "It's funny," he added, his smirk growing larger by the second "I don't see how you could have overlooked her."

Still looking at Saphira, the Lord spoke in a much more humble tone, "How about this then Rider. If you can defeat my ten best men alone," he emphasized obviously referring to her. "And without magic, then I will agree to join the Varden."

'What do you think Saphira?'

She gave a snort before flying up to land on the battlements. 'Eragon if you could not defeat ten ordinary men you would have to be the worst Rider in history.'

He smiled and agreed to fight the ten men. As they encircled him he spun Brisingr at his side, waiting for them to attack. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a man rush forward with a battle axe raised above his head. He waited until the man was close enough and then, sidestepping the blow, he lashed out splitting open the man's stomach. As he hit the ground, blood pooling around his body, the other men looked at each other, then back at Eragon.

Three men nodded to each other and cautiously approached him from the front, their respective weapons held at the ready. Two had long swords and the third wielded a heavy looking mace as well as a shield. That man was several feet to the right of the other two, and held his shield in his right hand. Eragon leapt at an angle to the man's left and took a second step towards his right. Brisingr flashed once and he stopped holding the sword out to the side, away from his body. Behind him there was a thump as the man's top half fell to the ground followed shortly by the bottom. Eight left.

'I see you decided to ignore my advice.' Said Saphira, bringing a smile to his face.

The two men with long swords now attacked, swinging their swords wildly in front of them. Ducking a blow from the first man, he kicked the soldier's legs out from under him and rose to parry the other's attack. He blocked an overhead slash from the second soldier and lunged, stabbing him through the chest and whirling quickly back to face the other soldier. The man, now cowering on the ground, shivered as he felt the cool metal of Brisingr against his throat.

"You are defeated, leave now." The soldier did not hesitate; he turned and sprinted outside of the circle of men where he collapsed to the ground muttering nonsense. "Six left." Eragon said aloud to himself, glancing at the remaining soldiers who looked like they would rather be anywhere else in the world.

Four of the remaining six yelled out hoarse battle cries and ran forward, weapons raised. One man was unfortunately much faster than his comrades and reached Eragon alone. In a single motion, Eragon disarmed the soldier and slit his throat. The sword flew through the air impaling one of the two men who had stayed back in the stomach, and he fell to the ground dead.

The other three soldiers had now reached him, and in a flurry of movement two fell dead, while the third cried out in agony as he cradled the remaining stump of his sword arm. His cry was cut short as Brisingr entered his heart, killing him instantly.

The final soldier looked at the bodies surrounding Eragon, and dropped his sword falling to his knees. Eragon nodded at the man and turned to look back at Lord Vernon whose skin now looked as though it had never seen the light of the sun.

"Very well," he said, his voice cracking in fear "You may attempt to sever my ties to Galbatorix, and if you are successful, then you will have our allegiance."

A/N: alright well once again i hope i didn't loose any readers because of this, and ill start on the next chapter later today. I don't know exactly how long itll take but i promise it won't be as long as this one was, probably sometime late next week if everything goes as planned.

Also im open to any suggestions or criticism, so let me know what you think.