Rune ran her fingers over Thorn's blood colored scales. She scratched his underbelly, feeling the dragon fire in his chest. He purred at her.

"Take me flying, Thorn," she whispered to the dragon, leaning against him. She rubbed the soft scales under his wings.

No, little Dove, he responded. I fly with Murtagh on my back.

She nodded sadly. Rune had heard this before.

"He's right," said a voice from behind her. Rune spun, coming face to face with Murtagh himself. "I'm the dragon rider, not you."

Rune laughed at his expression. "I know, I know. But it would truly be wonderful, don't you think? We could fly together on our dragons, Slate and Thorn."

He smiled. "So you've already named your dragon? Dove, that's silly."

"I can pretend, can't I?" the young girl asked. She plopped down in the straw. Murtagh sat down next to her. She lay back, getting straw in her dark auburn hair. "Murtagh, why won't my father let me touch his dragon egg? I'm sure it would choose me."

"He loves you," Murtagh said. "He doesn't want the life of a Rider for you."

She frowned and shook her head. "He doesn't love me at all. He hates me."

"You remind him of your mother."

"Well, that's really not my fault," she pouted. Almost instantly her face brightened again. "Murtagh, tell me about your fight with Eragon again," she giggled like a little girl, "That one made father so desperately mad."

Murtagh watched her face closely. "Now why do you want to know about Eragon?"

She rolled over, a mask of thoughtfulness over her pretty features. "I've heard he's dreadfully handsome."

Murtagh frowned. "You aren't allowed out of the palace, my dove. Where would you have heard that?"

She bit her lip. "My chambermaid. She stole his poster from the board in town and gave it to me. Please don't tell Galbatorix, Murtagh. You'll get her in dreadful trouble."

"Don't worry," he assured her. "Maids are known gossipers."

She cocked her head like a dog. "If maids are gossipers, then why doesn't the whole kingdom know about me?"

Murtagh closed his eyes. Because if word gets out that Galbatorix had a child with an elf captive, every maid, page, and soldier in this castle will be killed. But he couldn't say that. He smiled brightly at her. She was so innocent. Her wide, green eyes glittered with curiosity about everything. Although she was fourteen, almost a woman, Rune's heart still sang like a child's. She found beauty in all. He wished some of the other people he had met had been able to keep her childlike wonder.

"Don't worry about it, Rune. I'm sure your father will take care of things."

"You're getting off the subject," she protested, although it was she that had changed it, "I want to know about Eragon."

Murtagh shook his head and laughed. Rune hopped for subject to subject like a grasshopper. She spoke her mind, even at its most random moments.

"Eragon was raised in a small town by the Spine," he began. "He's my younger brother. You know that, don't you?"

"Of course. Eragon of Carvahall, from Selena through Morzan. Just like you."

"Right. Now, as you know, Eragon found a dragon egg. It was sent to him by Arya, the elf princess. She—"

"Arya…" Rune interrupted reverently. "She's a princess? Am I a princess, Murtagh?"

"You are," he answered with a smile. "Your father is king, and your mother…" he trailed off.

"Tell me about my mother, Murtagh."

"Galbatorix didn't tell me the whole story."

"Then tell me what you know, as always."

He sighed. "I've told you this story before."

"Stories never get old, no matter how many times you tell them."

"Alright then. Once there was a young Rider, long ago. One day, he met an elf maiden, an ambassador from the elf queen—her youngest sister. He took one look at her in all her beauty, and knew that one day she would be his," Murtagh took a deep breath and continued, "Her name was Lycona. That Rider grew up to be Galbatorix. Lycona was all but forgotten. Then, about fifteen years ago, the Ra'zac found a spy lurking around Galbatorix's castle. When they brought the spy to him, who was it but Lycona, the beautiful elf who had rejected him years before. Instead of executing her, he kept her in his castle…" Murtagh's voice faded. "You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this."

"Murtagh, I'm not a child anymore. I know where babies come from."

"Alright. Anyways, Lycona hated him. She loathed him with all her heart. When she found out she was with child, she fell into deep despair. When you were born, she tried to send you away, to her sister, the elf queen Islanzadi. But Galbatorix caught her, and made sure she would never attempt such again, for he knew her real name and could bind her to his doing. Next, she tried to send you to Brom. Once again, she failed. She died of a broken heart."

Rune looked sad. She rolled over again and placed her head in Murtagh's lap. "If she had sent me to Brom, would I have grown up with Eragon?"

"Yes. He would have been…hmm, about two at the time. Perhaps, if Lycona had succeeded, the two of you would be happily married without any of this business with Saphira," he joked with her.

She chuckled. "I doubt it." she paused. "Murtagh, do you love me?"

Yet another instance where she speaks her mind, Murtagh thought. "I do. Like the sister I never had."

"Yes. As do I. Do you think we'll ever marry?"

"I suppose it's possible," he said. "If your father wishes it."

"I don't want to marry just because my father wishes it," Rune complained. "I want to marry for passion."

He tickled her. "You're such a hopeless romantic, my dove. I suppose you want your groom to be a knight, just in from the battle who sees you and falls madly in love at that moment," he teased.

"Oh, no," she giggled. "I want my groom to be a Rider. With a black dragon."

"Like Shuriken?"

She shook her head. "Not in the least. Shuriken is far too big and scary, and he's always grumpy. No, I want him to be a dragon like Thorn. Or perhaps like Saphira. What's Saphira like?"

"I don't know her well. But she's beautiful, that's for sure."

"She's beautiful and Thorn's handsome. They'd make a fine couple."

Thorn, who had been content watching the two and chewing on a piece of bone, choked. I'm afraid that's the silliest thing I've ever heard, he thought at the two of them.

She giggled again. "I know, I know. But she's the only female dragon alive, and Shuriken is much too old for her. You are the only reasonable match for her, dear dragon."

She's a wicked fighter, that's for sure. No, Dove. Keep Saphira far from me, if you please.

Rune smiled sadly. "Yes, I suppose that's for the best. Tell me more about Eragon, Murtagh. Is he as handsome as in the poster?"

He ruffled her hair. "You're such a silly girl. Why should you care?"

She shrugged. "Never mind me. It's just, some day, when I get out of this palace, I would very much like to meet him."

"Perhaps I will succeed in capturing him and you can meet him then."

"Yes, perhaps."

Rune sighed and got up. "Goodnight, Murtagh. I do think I'll retire now."

He smiled at her. "Dream of freedom, my dove."

"Dream of freedom, Murtagh," she began to walk of, then turned back. "Dream of steaks and mead, Thorn."

Murtagh laughed as she left the room. Rune was a silly girl, full offoolish fantasies and annoying notions,but he loved her. Yes, he loved her very much.