AN: I went to the Jurassic Coast today – you know, the one with all the fossils and gems? Well, I covered myself in clay digging (hopelessly) for tiny bits of fossilized plants, until finally a brainwave hit me; doesn't that stone look a bit like a dragon's egg?

So instead of helping the way too excited paleontologists dig for bits of carbonized matter, I sat there and hoarded all these big, egg shaped rocks and glared at anyone who came near them.

But when I saw the geologists – with their big, thick glasses and trowels – looking at me like I was the crazy one, I thought it was time to go home. So here you go! A chapter!!

Even if he were to strike Brisingr against his shield beside their ears, Eragon feared that the men of the Varden would not have twitched. It was for the same reason that he also apprehended that, were Saphira to scorch them all within that instant with her bright blue flame, they would not even bat an eyelid. Nor, should Galbatorix himself land before their eyes on his black dragon and obstruct the light of the golden sun, so bright and so clear on that fine day, would not cry out.

Those same men, gathered before their leader's tent, had been struck numb, deaf and dumb.

Eragon. The rider jumped at the melodic mental voice – so different in so many ways to Saphira's – touched his haunted mind; as he realised his mistake, Eragon grinned sheepishly – he was so unfamiliar to Arya's constant presence in his mind. Have I turned green, or perhaps speckled blue, in the night?

The rider frowned as he surveyed his love; her skin, he imagined, was as honey-coloured and unblemished as it had always been. Her hair, with brilliant golden orbs – bright shining as the sun – that glimmered before his eyes was as straight and sleek as it had always been. And her scent… a mixture of the deep scented pines of Ellesmera and the rich earth of Surda… was as bewitching and bewildering as it, too, had always been. The only thing that had changed, perhaps, was the soft hand gripping his with surprising intensity.

No, love, not a thing.

Eragon watched the corners of the elf's heart-shaped mouth rise slightly despite her black mood. The dub never ceased to please her.

Then why on earth do they stare so?

At once, Eragon understood the cause of her concern; indeed, the people of the Varden were gawping at the couple so much – and so shamelessly - that he worried they might bore holes into them with their incessant gaze. And, worryingly, he also knew what she was about to say.

Eragon…

No. His voice was firm, but his tone loving and his gaze empathetic. It is right. It is so, and it shall be so. It is time for them to accept this – and besides, even your mother gave us her blessing; if we can win over the heart of the legendary Islanzadi, what hope do those poor, unsuspecting people have?

You know that is not what I meant. And besides, she has yet to learn… what we are about to divulge. I fear that information may change her temperament somewhat.

The young rider sighed and nodded. He knew, in these confused times for the pair, that it was best not to go into the heart of the matter, and concentrated on her first statement; he wished to avoid an argument. I do indeed. Do not worry; it shall be done soon. And then, maybe, we might take a flight to the lake.

I'd like that.

The hand within his – so alien, and yet so true – gripped him. He squeezed it back.

"Cousin!"

The pair turned simultaneously to see Katrina hurrying towards them. As one person, the crowds began to disperse and drift away – although Eragon was sure he saw several men and women alike glare at him out of the corner of his eye as they passed his line of vision. He ignored them.

"Katrina," Arya greeted, her welcoming voice like silk to Eragon's craving ears. Yet he knew it well enough to detect the well-hidden hint of nervousness hidden behind the name. He squeezed her hand once more.

"Are you going to do it?" The red-head asked, demanding the information in a tone that connoted her single minded determination. "Really? Now?"

The pair looked at one another; Eragon's eyes glimmered with uncertainty, but his lover's shone bright and clear as emeralds. "Yes." Arya answered. Eragon's lips curled upwards in an involuntary smile – mirrored by both Katrina's, Arya's and Saphira's toothy dragon grin.

Only once I had threatened to make sure Eragon could never have children if they delayed it any longer.

This time Eragon was the only one not laughing. Instead he glared at Saphira, Arya and Katrina in turn until they finally managed to transfer their laughs into amused coughs. With his dignity barely intact, the young rider turned to his love. "Coming?"

She immediately sobered.

"You'll be fine," Katrina gushed at once, seeing her anxiousness. "I promise."

To Eragon's immense surprise, Arya instantly brightened; her face lit up with a glorious smile. I don't understand – I must have promised her that a thousand times, yet Katrina can say it just once and have that effect?

You are a man – our minds work differently to yours.

Obviously.

With a squeeze of his hand and a worried smile, Arya lead Eragon into the crimson tent in which their awaiting leader reposed.

-x-

"Enter."

Eragon grimaced at the tone; tired, frustrated and upset, Nasuada was in no mood to hear their good news. Arya must have feared the same, as she gave his hand another encouraging grasp, but her face was as steel – her features were set in an expression of pure determination. For the first time, Eragon cursed his love and her strength. He glanced back towards the open air in which Katrina and Saphira waited nervously and longed to be alongside them.

If only…

Too soon, it seemed, the guards before Nasuada's tent had moved away and Arya was dragging him into the tent, her head held high and her face written with all the authority of fate itself.

Once more, Eragon found himself wishing he could turn back time; if only he could sit forever by the fire with Arya and Saphira at his side and Roran and Katrina before them…

"Tell me again," Katrina demanded of the pair. Roran's shoulder she leant against as they bathed in the warmth of the log fire they had constructed on the mountainside; Saphira had flown them there two by two, and now they sat and watched the stars as Saphira ducked beneath the cool waters of the lake behind the line of trees to their left.

Roran exchanged an amused glance with his cousin; Eragon had to look away, smirking. The women glared at them.

"You tell me, then, Arya."

Arya grinned; Eragon was baffled, not for the first time, by the change that happened to the two – normally so practical – women whenever the subject came up; it was as if they had been hypnotized. With a glance at his equally dumbfounded cousin, the rider knew

that he was not alone in his confusion.

I love you, little one, but sometimes I fear that you shall never understand women.

So do I, Saphira. So do I.

"Where did it happen?"

"Right…" Arya swiveled and pointed into the sky above the mountain. "Up there."

"Eragon!" Katrina squealed. "You are romantic, after all! I had almost lost all hope!" Eragon shot her a foul glare; she ignored it. Roran chuckled, and for once Eragon felt he had to join in; evenings like this - so pure and untainted by the worries of everyday life on the land below where their comrades bustled around like the ants Eragon had once watched, fascinated – were far too rare to dampen with ill feelings. The rider felt Saphira bristle with pride, once again, at how much he had matured.

"We had a perfect view of the entire camp… and beyond." Arya smiled thoughtfully. "yes… It was romantic."

The pair exchanged amused looks.

"But…" Roran spoke uncertainly for the first time in minutes. "What about Nienna? And Nasuada?"

Silence struck the group.

What about Nasuada?

"What is the meaning of your visit?"

The cold, hard voice of reality jolted Eragon from his dream-like trance and into the harsh glare of the woman behind him. The young rider had no choice; he was forced to look away. Although Nasuada was trying to eliminate her feelings for Eragon – to create a better atmosphere and less awkwardness for all involved – she was not making as much progress as he would have hoped.

Give her time, Saphira suggested gently. From her thoughts, Eragon was vaguely aware of Katrina demanding nervously to know what was going on. He smiled in spite of himself; while Nasuada took more time than he thought nessacery to deal with her conflicting emotions, Katrina had excelled gloriously in gaining the confidence and courage she needed once more. She was, he thought, twice what she had once been.

Behind him, he heard someone enter the tent – upon quickly examining the unknown person's consciousness, he found it to be Elva. The chill that he always got in the young girl's presence was followed quickly by a pang of unease; she was, as Saphira had once said, more likely to slit their throats than help them. He unconsciously guarded himself against her mind and pulled Arya closer to him.

"We come to…" Eragon faltered, looking once more at the violet-eyed girl. Her knowing smile and glaring gaze made him sure that she knew what he was about to say. "We come to… to speak with you, my lady…"

"That I see." Nasuada said, turning away from them to briskly stride towards her desk, and the chair behind it. Eragon let out a small sigh, glad of the momentary lapse of searing anger her gaze had burned under his skin. Elva's smile, out of the corner of his eye, widened. "But you have yet to say what about. Hurry, for I am a busy woman."

"That we know," Arya assured her hurriedly. "We have… something to tell you."

"Pray, tell me it is good news." Nasuada sighed wearily; for a moment Eragon thought he saw a ghost of a smile, and felt a pang of regret that he and Arya would be together the ones who had to remove it.

"Well…"

-x-

Nasuada had to stop her hands from shaking as she stepped up the rough, wooden steps. Why me? She wondered. Why do I have to endure such heartache?

Her father had once said that it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all; he may have been right, for there was a certain wisdom about those words… but in that instant Nasuada knew that it was easy to make observations regarding love, but twice – thrice as hard to live them out.

And that, she thought with a sad pride, was true wisdom.

As she stood before the Varden, her hands lifted high and her mouth curled into a grimace of false happiness, Lady Nightstalker spoke the words that had broken her heart once again, not moments before:

"Eragon Shadeslayer is to be married."

AN: Dun dun dunnnnn!!! I bet you're all really happy now :) Well, don't worry – it won't last long xP There's scandals, and more scandals, and then MORE scandals to come :)

I'd like to dedicate this chapter to two people (actually, that's a lie. Make it three. No, four… AHH! This is SO HARD! You guys have to stop being nice to me!!!)

ONE: Musings Of A Shaken Mind; I love you :)

TWO: .Weasley.757; your many reviews made me laugh. Thank you :)

THREE: LealFaithful; you're special. I love that too :P

FOUR: iNoticed; for the weirdest saying I've ever heard!!

In fact, let's have a competition – whoever can tell me the weirdest saying ever gets A PRIZE!!! (Yet to be decided :P)

LoveMuchly xxx