A/N: A very big thank you to all who have added this story on their alert lists. Your support is truly encouraging.

Please forgive me for taking so long to update. Most days, I lack time and inspiration. Which is where you, my dear readers, come in! Any suggestions, prompts, requests, challenges and the like will be very welcome. As I really am planning to write 1001 chapters for this fic, all who contribute will have a night (or several nights) dedicated to them.

And now, on to the next night! This one is dedicated in loving memory of my amazing writing buddy, emo_what97 (on LiveJournal), in honour of her fifteenth birthday. May she rest in peace.

Night the Second: The End of the Elves?

"Ready?" Eragon asked, flopping onto the bed.

"For tonight's tale? Very much so," his sort-of-mate replied with an extremely un-Arya-like enthusiasm.

"Drat," he muttered under his breath as she continued, "You didn't think I'd let you off, did you? 'Cause if you bail on me, I'll bail on you."

"Right," Eragon sighed. "Where was I?"

"Saphira and Fìrnen had woken up, ready for another go."

" 'Kay. Well, then…"

The two dragons, especially the slightly smaller green one, were quite keen on continuing their little 'wrestling match' when a small, violet-eyed girl burst out of a nearby room. Evidently, she didn't have any respect for anyone's sleep (or certain less mundane activities), as she was yelling at the top of her voice.

"The end is near! Death and destruction throughout Alagaësia! The fall of the greatest race of all—the elves!"

Receiving no response, save the blank look that passed between the beasts, Elva sucked in a deep breath and yelled twice as loud as before. "I SAID, THE END IS NEAR! DON'T YOU PEOPLE, LIKE, CARE?"

Angela, the mysterious author, herbalist and goodness knows what else, stuck her head into the hall. "Sounds serious. How many hits do you think I'll get if I post it on Tumblr?"

Elva gaped at her. "The world as we know it is going to be non-existent really, really soon, and all you can think about is being popular on the Internet?"

The door next to Angela's opened a crack, and Blödhgarm's furry shoulders and head emerged. "Do you mind?" he yawned. "It's the middle of the night, and some of us are trying to get some sleep."

"I'm surprised you could sleep at all, what with Arya shrieking away like a mad banshee," Elva—

"I do not shriek like a mad banshee!" Arya cut in, cuffing her fellow Argetlam hard round the head.

"Okay, okay, okay. I'll cut that out," winced Eragon. "Now, where was I? Ah, yes…"

"I'm surprised you could sleep at all, what with all the noise from over there," Elva shot back, looking rather pointedly in the direction of Arya's quarters. "Honestly, you'd think they had the sense to ward the door, at the very least."

Blödhgarm's eyes shot open wide. "They?"

"Eragon," Angela clarified, rolling her eyes. "Young people these days."

Elva began an extremely immature rant about stereotyping by age, centred, of course, on herself. Thankfully, they were stopped by yet another rudely woken elf—well, living being, seeing as Angela couldn't exactly be classified as an elf—who slammed the door open before realising that he was completely nude.

"What," he hissed as he grabbed a random cloak and wrapped it round himself, "in the name of those dwarves' non-existent gods, is going on around here?"

"We might ask you the same question." Angela raised her eyebrows at his dishevelled appearance. "At least you had the sense to ward the door, unlike your half-brother. D'you think you could mention it to him tomorrow over breakfast?"

Before Murtagh could answer, someone else appeared over his shoulder. "Can this please just wait till morning?" she groaned. "We're kind of in the middle of something here!"

Elva's jaw dropped. "This whole entire freaking world is going to end and you ask if it can wait till tomorrow?"

Angela sighed. "Elva, what exactly did you see in this dream of yours?"

"Lots of fire, and blood, and Eragon being electrocuted!"

Murtagh's eyes widened. "Whoa. Not very nice for a ten-year-old."

"I'm not even five," huffed the girl.

Murtagh's lady friend cleared her throat pointedly, looking somewhat irritated at having her beloved Shur'tugal snatched from her by an infant with a loud voice.

"Right," Murtagh sighed. "Yell if you need us. The door will be shut, locked, bolted, sealed and barred against all sound, so good luck. Now," the spectators briefly heard him say as he shut the door and locked, bolted, sealed and barred it as promised, "Where were we?"

Angela and Blödhgarm exchanged a look. "Elva," the former yawned, "if you need us, our doors will be shunt, lost, bowled, swilled and whatever else Murtagh said, okay? Goodnight." The heavy two-foot-thick oak door slammed shut.

"What she said," Blödhgarm said, hastily retreating into his quarters. The sound of bolts and latches being drawn could be heard for about half an hour after—evidently, the wolf-like elf was taking no chances.

Elva sighed, returning to her own room at the other end of the hall. "If only they'd stayed to hear the part about the…"

Hehe. An open ending to an open plot.

In case it wasn't obvious, Murtagh's 'lady friend' is none other than the birthday girl. Amber, please don't kill me. I couldn't resist. You have to admit, the idea of you and Murtagh could keep me going for at least ten chapters.

Man, do I have a twisted mind.

Anyways, reviews, people! Many thanks to TercesWarrior93, and perseus2247 for your comments. I meant to thank you all personally, but, quite honestly, I'm rushing for time as is already. I'm really really sorry.