A/N: Unfortunately, "Nasuada's Heart" is still on hiatus, but I hope this will appease some of you. Credit to Amy Winehouse for 'Love is a losing game'. I suggest you listen to it first, before you read this story.
Disclaimer: Anything you've seen or heard before belongs to Christopher Paolini or Amy Winehouse
Love is a Losing Game
A thousand candles lighted the ballroom at the Surda fortress. Dignitaries, Generals, Lord and Ladies, all of them danced gaily, masked on the marble floor. From where she was hiding, Nasuada could pinpoint the lovers from the rest of the room. Their embrace was soft, sensual, and graceful. Even with all the laughter, the smiles, the noise, they found their private cocoon in each other's arms. It stung her heart to see love like that, in the midst of all this war. Love she knew deep down she wasn't privy too.
She had long since performed her duties as Lady of the Varden. At such a function it was an obligation to make a speech, thank the people, the gods, etc., etc., etc. She had seen Eragon run off earlier to moon over Arya's decline to join him in the first dance. As if at a time like this, one rejection sent his world crashing. What she wouldn't give for someone to even reject her. Even if He rejected her, at least she wouldn't blame herself for trying. Orrin hadn't bothered to leave his chemistry kit, and to make matters worse she had had the most awkward request from Jormundur, which she had politely, but sternly declined.
No, her lot were better fit for loneliness, smiling when the situation seemed fit and masking tears at all costs. A leader could not let her emotions, least of all her heart, show through. And so Nasuada found herself hidden behind a marble column, a light breeze rustling her purple damask gown and the feather's in her peacock mask. Why had she even bothered dressing up? She should have left for her room hours ago, but she wanted to prove something to herself.
She glanced over Roran and Katrina on the floor, dressed as some tragic literary couple, the latter with her head resting on the former's chest. To see that look of contentment on Katrina's face, that pure ecstasy to be with the one she loved, with no restriction…it almost made Nasuada sick. How dare they get to have it all. If the swell in Katrina's abdomen was any hint, they were already on their way.
Nasuada turned away from them, unable to bear a moment more. Walking out the open doors, and into the garden, she could feel the tears bursting for release. She heard the band change songs, a woman's voice drifting over her.
For you I was a flame
Love is a losing game
Five story fire as you came
Love is a losing game
Again, her thoughts drifted to Him. What she wouldn't give to be dancing with him in this moment. Just two people, no titles, no war, as a man and woman dancing together. What would he have dressed as if he were here to night? She tried to laugh at the image of him in Roran's gold and green silk tunic, but it came out muted, dry against her throat. No, black would be more his style, dressed as a raven. His dark brown eyes glittering through his black mask.
One I wish I never played
Oh what a mess we made
And now the final frame
Love is a losing game
The tears were flowing now, and her throat prickled. She could almost see him now, here in the garden. Reaching out for her, asking for a dance. Nasuada could feel his warm hand, as she glided into his arms. His dark stare, burning her, as he placed an arm around her waist. She found herself short of breath, as she felt his heart beat against her chest, his warm breath tickling her ear. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry, and so she did both.
Played out by the band
Love is a losing hand
More than I could stand
Love is a losing hand
They were dancing around the fountain now, the moonlight casting shadows around them. Her dark suitor removed his hand from hers to cup her face, lifting the peacock mask from her eyes. Gently he wiped away a tear from her cheek, caressing her face. In a heartbeat, he was kissing her, molding her body to his own. She responded with urgency, allowing his tongue to seek entrance. Desire and need filled her body, aching for release.
Self professed... profound
Till the chips were down
Know you're a gambling man
Love is a losing hand
Nasuada removed her hand from his hair to release his mask, and with a blink of her eyes…he was gone. Her body, void form his, collapsed to the ground. Curled up, she felt hollow and cold, a ghost of her former state. Bitter tears fell from her face now, the anguish of a dream ended causing her anguish to no end. She clenched her hands into fists, beating them against the stone pathway. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair! How could the gods torment her so? How cruel could fate possible be, to snatch a moment's happiness from her?
Though I'm rather blind
Love is a fate resigned
Memories mar my mind
Love is a fate resigned
Laughter poured out of the ballroom, and Nasuada remembered where she was, who she was. Rising slowly, she brushed off as much dirt and gravel as she could, trying to straighten out the wrinkles as well. She had her cry; it was time to move on. Her dress had seen better days, and now her hair was beyond help in a tangled mess. But where was her mask?
Over futile odds
And laughed at by the gods
And now the final frame
Love is a losing game
Turning, what she found startled her. There was the damned mask, on the fountain, where she must have left it. But next to it, lay a simple black one; the very one Murtagh had been wearing in her dream.