A/N: Hamsters are sneaky aren't they? Yes Chapter 4 is here. Thanks to reviewers, and somebody actually asked me if the blowy-uppy thing was possible, and I said yes. And it is! Originally, I started writing this chapter in Eragon's P-O-V, but totally couldn't get it down. Just thought you should know. And something else I forgot to mention earlier; half-breeds (That sounds kind of mean) powers are enhanced, as they have the combined blood of two races, and they don't need a lot of sleep.

This chapter is mostly a memory chapter. A memory chapter is a vital chapter in the story, and it revolves around one person's memories. Such as first meetings, important events, battles (yes I might try the Battle for Ilirea or the Battle of Doru Araeba), etc. So don't skip these, besides, this one is full of ExA ;)

Disclaimer: I have an honest question that I would like to be answered. How long has Dora the Explorer been six years old? IC is not mine.

A-R-Y-A

Evan. Eragon. Evan. Eragon. She thought, as she was still utterly bewildered at the entire concept. Eragon did look remarkably similar to Evan, yet Evan had dark black hair, but as Eragon's mother said, 'magic'. But she still couldn't grasp her mind around the fact that Eragon could be Evan, the one she developed love for.

Arya wondered what her mother would think about this situation. She would most likely become insanely angry with the Varden for Nasuada's choice, and then round on Arya. She had always been the prime subject for their arguments. Her mother had always complained that she should act more like a princess, not a warrior. It was true; every day since Arya had been seven years old she had gone outside and practiced alone. And that was when she met Evan, one day when she was twelve.

Her mother and Arya had gotten into yet another argument about something stupid and petty. Arya stormed out of Tialdari Hall and to the training grounds, which were surprisingly empty. Determined to clear her mind, she drew her thin silver blade and began to practice the movements that her father had begun to teach her. Granted, theses movements were only minute blocking, parrying, and attacking skills, but Arya practiced them every day in honor of her father. And soon, she had been overwhelmed with memories. She thought back to every argument she and her mother had, every fight, every command. And as her mood grew darker and darker, so did her maneuvers. She began to slash wildly yet gracefully, and it was on one downwards strike that her blade hit another's.

Before her with his own brilliant blue sword raised was an elf. His black hair was not as dark as hers, or as long as any of the other elves, as it usually went past their shoulders. No, his hair hung around the ears and it gave him a more attractive appearance. His chocolate brown eyes stared deep into hers, and he smiled a crooked smile. The elf looked to be around twenty, but she knew elves were immortal so he could be from Alalea for all she knew. But she highly doubted it.

"I saw you swinging your sword around like a madman, and I thought you might need some assistance," the elf said with a smile.

Arya, who was happy to talk to someone besides her mother, said to him, "And while I thank you on that regard, I do not think you know who I am."

The elf raised an eyebrow, and he seemed genuinely surprised. "Really, who are you?"

"Arya Drottningu," she had said to him, expecting him to apologize profusely for his rash actions and then walk away with his pride damaged, but he did no such things. If anything he smiled wider.

"Yes I know that quite well actually." He said with a chuckle.

"As much as I desire friendly company, if my mother sees you interacting with me then she will… well I honestly don't know but it won't be good." She said grimly.

"Thanks for the warning, but I'll pass. I don't think Queen Islanzadi can hurt me," the elf said with his arms wide open, as if embracing a challenge. Arya was surprised at his confidence, yet also saddened. While he appeared happy on the outside, it looked like he was a having a battle, no, a war on the inside. He looked like a person who had seen too much war and it had forever scarred his soul.

She wondered if he fought at the Battle of Doru Araeba or the Battle for Ilirea, or maybe both. She had never even learned of what happened then, only that all of the riders had been exterminated. She mused over herself, as she had used the exact same word that her mother had used when half-breeds came into topic. Her mother and just about every elf in Ellesmera had refused to speak about the battles, and by their eyes she could tell that they hadn't even participated in them, only grieved.

"I admire you for your confidence, but you have no idea what she is capable of," Arya responded with a shaky tone. Just two days previous when Islanzadi had been trying to drill into her head that half-breeds were abominations, and deserved to be treated as such, Arya had defended her father. She had said that half-breeds were life, no matter the race, and deserved to be treated with respect. The Queen had slapped her in the face. Her mother had hit her with full elvin force, and thus the reason it hurt more. The left side of her face had turned a dark purple color and was bruised horribly and it hurt every time she talked. And to make matters worse, her mother had ordered everybody within the hall not heal Arya's face, even if Arya ordered them too.

The elf's eyes darkened with anger, and then he eyed the enormous bruise on the side of her face. "She hit you?" He asked with a venomous tone. Arya had just met this elf, yet she felt as if she had met him before and had known him for several years. And yet, she herself was surprised when she nodded slowly in answer to her question. If anything, the elf's eyes darkened even more with rage.

As light as a feather, the mysterious elf put a hand to her face and murmured, "Waíse heill." It wasn't her first time being healed, but it was the first in a while. Yet, his magic was different; it was not the insane itching urge that usually came with it. It was lighter, and sweeter. It was calm, and kind. And above all, it was loving and respectful. Not once in the past eight years had Arya been touched with such love, and even though she barely knew the elf, she had a connection with him. It was not 'love at first sight'. It was more over something along the lines of, 'connection at first sight'. She reveled in his loving touch, and slightly leaned into it.

And all too soon, the elf pulled his hand away and inspected her face. Then he smiled, but it was clearly hiding the rage. "There, good as new! And may I ask; why were you only performing basic sword moves?"

Arya answered quickly and sadly, "I haven't been taught any more than that."

The elf gave her a sad smile, as if he understood what was happening with her and why. And it was true; every time after Arya had an argument with her mother she came to the training ground and practiced the moves her father had taught her years before.

Then the elf smiled broadly, as if he had thought of something. "Well we'll have to fix that won't we?"

"Do you really mean…?"

"Yes, I will teach you. But like other teachers, I have rules." She groaned slightly, but it did not go unnoticed by the elf. "Rule number one: Do not call me elda, it makes me sound old. Rule number two: Do not call me ebrithil; I am your teacher not your master. And rule number three: You must always smile!"

And his words did his intent, and she smiled and laughed. "Meet me here tomorrow after you eat dinner, I'll be here. But if you ever need me earlier, just say my name, and I'll come." He began to walk away, but Arya realized something.

"Wait! What is your name?"

"Er – Evan, you may call me Evan." He responded.

And with that, she made her first and only friend in her life. It was then that Arya's romantic feelings had begun, but she only fully realized them twenty years later.

But when she went back to Tialdari Hall with a smile on her face, many of the elvin lords looked disturbed by her appearance, but said nothing. When the dinner bell rang throughout the hall, she skipped through the halls towards the banquet area. Not even the prospect of seeing her mother could destroy her mood, or so she thought.

When she skipped into the hall and took her seat, she did not notice the strange looks the other elves were giving her. Most of them were not used to such public displays of emotion, and were obviously uncomfortable with it. But Arya paid no heed to them, and began to wait for her mother.

When her mother had walked in the room, she did not look at Arya once, but when they 1/4th through the meal, she finally did, and her eyes reeled in anger.

"Who healed you?" The tone her mother used was so cool and cruel that it took all of her might not to quail and curl up into a ball. When she failed to answer, her mother repeated the question, but with more force. And suddenly Arya felt her mind being driven into, and her mother examined the memories of recent events. Arya managed to hide nothing but one thing from her mother, and that was the part where Evan had said that all she had to do was call his name, and he would be there.

When her mother had successfully ripped most of the memory from her mind, she was seething, "I forbid you to go anywhere near that elf again! You are lucky I am not hunting him down and punishing him!" Her words were not loud, but very cold and harsh. Arya only nodded in fear, and scoot away from her mother as far as she could on her chair. Quite a few of the elves had noticed that Arya's face was healed, but they only gave her seething looks.

And so when dinner was finally over, Arya rushed from the room and ran to her own. Becoming her own twelve-year-old self, she crawled under the blankets and began to cry herself to sleep.

Arya's eyes opened, and she saw it was probably midnight. Grumbling, Arya attempted to go back to sleep, but sleep would not take her. She was just so…so…lonely. She needed a friend, and the only one she had was Evan. Then she remembered Evan's words, 'Just say my name and I'll come.'

But would he come? It was so late in the night; Evan was probably asleep at the time. But Arya need someone, and the only someone would be him. Even if Arya had known him for only a few hours, she felt like she had known him for years.

Putting those thoughts aside, she whispered the name, "Evan." And a burst of wind came through the open window, and brushed back her long raven hair. And standing in the window way was Evan, and he did not even look sleepy! Did he ever sleep?

He walked over to her gently and kneeled down so he was several inches lower than her. "What's the matter?" And the way he asked it, it seemed like her father was back and caring for her again, but it wasn't.

"My mother came into my mind and hurt me," Arya said. And what more could she say; she was a broken twelve-year-old who was broken by her mother.

The same rage came into his eyes, before he tenderly said, "Do not worry little one, go to sleep. I shall be here." And so she fell asleep in his arms, and when she woke up, she was in her bed and Evan was nowhere to be seen.

And so for the next nine years it continued on like this. She would see him at lunchtime, as only breakfast and dinner was she required to eat with her mother. From lunchtime to dinnertime, the two spent their time together. Then after dinner she came to a separate clearing a ways away from the Menoa Tree. And the walk was well worth it. One night Evan had snuck Arya out of her room and had taken her there to the clearing to stargaze. Then after they finished sparring at sunset every night, and she was always disappointed to be away from Evan. But then at midnight every night, Arya had spoken his name and he had come in. Every night he rocked her gently until she slept, even when she became an adolescent. (A/N: I mean adolescent by the fact that she has bodily grown since she was twelve.)

And when she finally mustered up the courage to take the Yawe and be banished from Du Weldenvarden, Evan had come with her much to the disdain of her mother. And he had always been with her since.

And when she remembered the first meeting of the man she now loved, she couldn't stop the tears flowing from her eyes as she thought him dead. Holding her hands to her eyes, she leaned against a tree trunk and slid down it miserably. She couldn't help the sobs that wracked her body. Ever since her wake up in Farthen Dur she had avoided the thought of Evan, and now her resolve was crumbling.

She was glad she had secluded herself from the others before thinking of Evan, as she did not want to appear weak. Then an idea came to mind, and she leaped up in anticipation. And it all clicked.

She spoke the name of the only person that could help her; her hero since she was twelve years old. "Eragon," she whispered. And just like before, a gust of wind blew throughout the air, and in front of her, the one she had thought dead appeared in front of her. But something was not right; Eragon was swaying unsteadily on his feet. Before he could fall down she gently and slowly pulled him down to the ground.

When he quite ungracefully fell to the ground and moaned horribly, she began to be worried.

"Eragon!" Arya shouted. "Listen to me! Where does it hurt?"

In response to her question, he slowly moved his hand and placed it in the center of his torso. "Under the shirt?" Arya asked. Eragon nodded. She cringed at the thought of her taking off Eragon's shirt. Sure she had seen him shirtless before when they had gone swimming together, but this entirely too different. Deciding his life was more important than her petty worries, she grabbed her dagger and slashed open his burnt shirt.

Burnt? What did Eragon do? She questioned herself.

When she saw what lay under his shirt and on his body, she growled in anger. His entire lower torso area had been burnt and was still smoldering.

Help! She cried to Angela and Selena, they had to save him.

A/N: So whaddya think? In all honesty, and I'm not trying to brag, but I think it's a heck of a let better than the Faolin back story we got from Paolini. Yeah, I really think I did good on the memory. Tell me if you liked the memory and if you want more. And yeah, the clearing where they stargazed is the one where Eragon professed his feelings to Arya in Eldest; I thought it would be pretty nice to do that.

Ok guys, I came up with an idea for memory chapters. I am going to post them as separate chapters, so they will not be my top priority as a chapter itself. I may do a flashback in some of the real chapters, but Memory Chapters are going to be seperate chapters.