I don't own Eragon; just these sticky situations I am so mean to put them in.

A soft golden glow wavered into existence in the dark room. The candle burns brightly as the two blues eyes whom had gave it life watches it flicker, flame slowly growing even as she watched. How simple it was; yet it provided thousands with warmth and security…or it killed everything one held dear.

She closed her eyes and wished life was that simple. On her lap, the weak head of a dying man sat. She loved him with all her heart and soul, but sometimes, she just wished life was as simple for her as it was for that flame. A fire never really died, or if it did, it was sure not to be too painful.

She held his head tighter, cradling it gentle in her hands. She ran her hands through his greasy brown hair. Her eyes were fixed on his; dreaming they might open. Those brown eyes were all he wanted to see at the moment. She bent over and kissed him softy on the forehead. His skin scalded her lips. She winced softly. Her love could not save him and she knew it; but all the same she was disappointed when he hadn't stirred as she kissed him. She beamed for a moment, but then she realized he would not wake. He skin was hot and drenched in sweat. She took a rag and stuck it into cool sugar water; drizzling it into his mouth.

"Please, Roran. I love you. Don't die." She breathed into his pale ear, softer then the breeze stirring the trees just outside.

She leaned over and laid her head on his chest. She could feel his shallow, wheezy breathing; his heart slowly beating. She frowned at the thought of that drum stopping, or that soft breeze disappearing, forevermore.

She got a sinking feeling; knowing each labored breathe and weak heart beat could be his last. It was only a matter of time now. There was nothing more that could be done.

She silently cursed Saphira. If not for her, her fiancé won't be as good as…no she couldn't even say the word in her mind. Her Roran? Gone? She shrunk at the thought.

But then she felt the weak, labored breathes and wondered. What if? What if… he died? Could she love another? Her brain said yes, but her heart said no.

The candle flickered as the black oak door open. She had expected Angela but instead, before her was Eragon.

"How is he?" Eragon said. His voice was sad and cracked. It was like he hadn't drunk in a long time. She briefly questioned herself why. Then Katrina realized why it was so dry. He, Alagaesia's last hope, Shadeslayer, great sorceress and warrior, Argetlam, had been crying.

"As good as can be expected." She replied sourly.

"It's all my fault…" he concluded despairingly.

"No," Katrina bit her lip. In many ways, he was right. "it's not your fault." She lied.

"Yes it is." Eragon replied, a sullen look in his eye. Eragon came over. He bent to touch Roran's face. Dark lines silhouetted his under eyes. He had been busy; and worried. She could feel his disappointment in that Roran had only gotten worse since his last visit.

"I feel that you and he may fair better in the sunshine. I set up a tent in the gardens. You may rest there till…whatever is to happen happens." His voice was solemn. Katrina nodded. He was right. Maybe the fresh air could help.

She lifted Roran from the bed. He was much lighter and his skin sagged with every motion. Eragon joined her; coming quickly to her aid. He made an odd face when he realized how light he was. As they left the room, they passed many people. All was dead silent, for they knew Stronghammer's fate. They froze where they stood. If they had caps or hats of any kind, they removed them out of respect for the fallen hero. many mouthed blessings or words of comfort.

Finally, they were there. They had reached the gardens.

Katrina had not been to many places in the palace, as she was tending Roran half the time and worrying the other half; but she somehow knew this was the most beautiful. The air was pungent with sweet aromas, the smells so rich that no perfume could even try to match these scents.

The flowers gleamed; like the soil grew the finest gems. Colors which can't be appropriately described on paper covered the flowers. Some had rich, dull colors which were simple yet elegant. Others were as complex and beautifully colored as the most amazing sunset.

In particular, one caught her eye. She's seen in before. And it was almost terrible to see it again. The flower had a river of vivid color. It slowly shifted through the rainbow, catching every color worth seeing. She blinked back a tear as she remembered.

Flashback.

"Just ahead." Roran promised. He walked hastily downhill through the spine. For steps behind him was Katrina in all her birthday glory. Roran had promised a special surprise for her birthday and she simply couldn't wait. Roran's twentieth had yet to come. He was only one year younger though.

"Honestly, what is it?" Katrina asked, giggling slightly when he turned around and tickled her under the armpit.

"You'll see…"He replied with a sly smile on his face. Katrina gave a pouting face that he won't tell her and he beamed at her. "Just be patient. It's just at the bottom of this hill." Then he eyed the terrain. It all looked too lose for his girl's dainty feet to touch. He offered his hand to her.

"Why, Roran. How sweet." She said as she placed her hand in his. It felt so right, them holding hand as they walked down the trail that beautiful spring morning. His hands were warm and covered in rough spots. They carved away at her dainty white hands. Though it hurt, but a pleasurable pain. Like the solid ache someone gets after long work on their true passion.

Roran swiveled his head, watching her to ensure she wouldn't fall. It wouldn't do for the birthday girl to fall. He looked into her eyes and couldn't help but thinking how lucky he was to have her. In the light, she stepped towards him with the look of that of an angel. Her head was framed in a halo of twilight. Her auburn locks flowed in the breeze ever so gently. They framed a face of sun burnt cheeks and rice paper skin. Freckles dappled across her nose, leading up to her icy blue eyes. He was so in love. So what if her father, even after all these year of sneaking off into the spine, of nights of burning passion and love, of tears and smiles, still did not condone, or even know about their relationship. She was so perfect for him; despite any flaws like her slightly blotchy, sun burnt skin or the dark blobby birth mark on her…

Suddenly Roran tumbled forward, pulling Katrina with him. They laughed as they rolled down the hill together, like two children playing leap frog. One would be on top, then the other, then one again. Soon they lost momentum as they reached the bottom of the hill. They rolled to a stop, Katrina on top. For a moment, they just sat there, laughing. Finally, noticing what lay next to him, Roran laughed out. "We're here. Now, close your eyes."

Katrina rolled off of him and did as she was instructed. Even though her eyes were closed, she still saw only Roran. She felt a slight tingle as warm hands touched hers. Sparks seemed to fly right off her hand in their connection. The hands gently opened hers and placed something in one, closing it tightly on the object.

"Can I open my eyes yet?" Katrina asked anxiously.

"Not yet…" he answered. She heard the rip of a plant. Then a long, stick like item was place in her hand. "Okay. Open them."

She did so and was shocked to see what was in her hand. In one was the most beautiful flower she'd ever seen. Each of its petals were like a miniature rainbow, starting with white, and then flowing through the most vivid colors to black in the center. The core was a neon orange. In her other hand was something which made the flower look like something common. A wooden ring inlaid with a small sapphire stone. The wood was the finest cherry wood and the stone, though small, held the light like no other. It had an engraving. It said, "May this ring be a symbol of my love and that we shall wait for one another, even if death shall take us first. Happy twentieth, my love. RG&KS forever."

"It's a promise ring. I cannot marry yet, but when I can, I want it to be to you. Do you like it?" Roran asked, pulling out a matching ring with a ruby stone.

Katrina just stood there, mouth agape, eyes watering. Finally she flung her arms around him. He picked her up and spun her around lovingly. "I love you, Roran." Katrina said.

"Wear it always." Roran pleaded.

"I w-" Katrina started.

"Katrina?" There cam a voice yelling. It was the all to familiar voice of her father, calling her to do this or that. Katrina panicked.

"I have to go…now! I love you, but dad shall ask about the ring…well that or steal it. I cannot wear it."

Roran gave a despairing look, but Katrina lifted his chin gently. "When we leave, I shall wear it every day for the rest of my life." She vowed.

End flashback.

Remembering her promise, Katrina pulled out her ring, sliding it upon her index finger before continuing hauling Roran to the tent.

They traversed past the outer flowers; out of the shadow and into the sun. Katrina winced. She's spent so long in that dark room, her eyes hurt from the stinging brightness of the sun. She looked down so not to kill her eyes.

The path before her had about enough room on it to allow two people to walk comfortably side by side. It was a typical red brick path; nothing extraordinary about it. As they walked, the rough surface skimmed her dainty feet. But she wouldn't dare complain.

Soon a light blue, white, and black pavilion came into sight. On the tip, a dark blue dragon danced. It flew a red, blue, and black flag. Black stars danced around a ruby dragon with a blue background. It was Surda's national flag.

As they came upon it, the flap opened. Nasuada stood, looking at a man dressed in all black. He was cloaked from head to toe. No one could see past his hood and into his eyes. Nasuada appeared to be arguing with him. A scowl rested on her face and, doubtless even with his hood up, upon his as well. He noticed Eragon and, with one final sneer, tore off down the path.

Nasuada calmed her face as she noticed them. She smiled, not super successful but they couldn't blame her for trying. She was a mess. Part of her helm was torn and her hair was in up, tangled and loose unfortunately. Obviously from her arguments with the black stranger.

"Eragon, as you requested the gardens have been cleared and closed to everyone. That man included. Man did he give me hell bout it though… You, Roran, and Katrina may stay here as long as you wish."

"Thank you, milady. I really do need it."

"It's the least we could do for our savior." Eragon blushed a bit and nodded.

"Good day, Argetlam." She finished before curtsying and turning slowly to walk down the path towards the palace. As she moved, her hips swayed back and fourth. They seemed to say, "Don't mess with me."

Katrina and Eragon slipped into the tent. It had one double bed and single bed with blue trim. Eragon's bed no doubt. Katrina and Eragon laid Roran on the double bed. He sunk into it limply. Katrina lied beside him; holding his fire hot head in her arms.

Eragon sat there; watching his cousin, dismayed he couldn't do anymore. After an hour, he left for a little. Katrina barely noticed. One moment she looked up he was there, the next he was gone. She paid no mind. She just sat, stroking Roran's curly hair.

He returned with his arms full of the most beautiful flowers. He proceeded to lay them around the room; brightening this stained earth. Still, his eyes held fast to a look of worry.

Katrina didn't notice when sleep took her. She dreamed of the same thing she was doing last; holding fast to her dying fiancé. Only, in the dream, he rose. She started crying and he wiped away her tears.

She awoke to feeling hot skin next to hers. She moved to see Roran; still the same as he had been before the dream. She was dismayed it wasn't real. She drizzled some sugar water between his cracked lips.

She looked around. The room was bright. Everything was in place and nothing appeared to be missing. She thought too soon. One thing was missing; Eragon. Also there were some new things; new flowers, a plate of the best looking food ever, and a blue note. She, cramming some bread in her mouth, picked the note up.

It read:

Dear Katrina,

I wanted to stay and help you through this. I'd never wanted to leave my cousin to his fate; but I must now consider my duties as a Dragon Rider.

We plan to get the egg soon. And I needed to see to some details. Tomorrow, at noon, I leave for Uru'baen. We must get the egg.

I'm…sorry. I love him too. And if he meets his fate today, I pray that Roran Gorrowsson may rest in peace.

Eragon Shadeslayer.

Katrina looked at Roran. Every single time they thought it wasn't possible for him to get any worse without dying, he proved them wrong. He looked as white as paper and his skin was just as fragile. His head could burn as well as fire could. Today would be the day. The last day. They day that would decide it all. If he didn't get better today, he'd die for sure.

Katrina filled her day cleaning and freshening the room, caring for and looking after Roran, praying to what ever gods cared for them, and singing sad, sad songs. She found words on her lips which spoke of hoping when there was no hope, praying when no god would listen, crying when no one cared enough to dry your eyes. It was just as she felt.

She worked and worked till the sun had left and the moon was staring at her. Then, just before she fed Roran for the seven-teenth time that hopeless day, sleep stole her.